Moans of the Night

I grasp not why i was chucked to that night,
Shuddering the nightly groans and hissing of full a things,
Without sleeves or hat; worser— And not one room lit.
Save the clock aloft whose hands dimly led my sight;
Wading along infested pools; kinder unproved the rocks.
Swoops of bats over my brow;
Ah!
Such respect.
Cried i to them, afeared of another swoop.
The night caused an itching weariness to droop.
A while to feel ease wrenching those details
That has clunged.
Lo!
Darkness unallowed such...
I shunned my steps, my ears to a  voice heard:
"O, how you handle it?"
"Not to worry" i  said.
Next spoke: "Take care in good faith." "Not to worry" i said.
Thus came the third: "how  it chanced?" "Not  to worry" i said.
As i once set out upon their dismissal,
A fool i had been not asking the torch.
Back i went,"spare me a light gents?"
Silence guffawed the night, "spare me a light gents?"
"Spare me a light gents?" Not a word heard,
And there i knew,
They were but hisses and moans of the night.