Dusk



The begining is the end;
The end devours all.
The highs have all flown past me
There is nothing but the fall.

The darkness is a living thing
Snapping at my heels.
The wind cries out a mournful song
That echos how I feel.

All illusion stripped away,
All fantasy takes flight.
All warmth has slowly seeped into
This dark, forboding night.

If the dawn at last appears
And the deceitful sun does rise,
I will stand alone and welcome it
With blank, unseeing eyes.



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Copyright NightUnfolding 2004