The first of three poems I wrote, this is my take on a sunset I saw a few weeks ago. The other two, Night and Sunrise, aren't quite so good, but I'll probably get around to typing them up eventually and posting them up.


Sunset
The last breaths,
The last fleeting moments,
My beloved sun, you explode,
Vitriolic, violent, vivacious,
The fire soars, engulfing,
Everything is cast in a fleeting
Shadow of radiance.

The last tendrils of incendius,
These few make their doomed,
Ill-fated war against the night.
The majesty is uncontrollable,
The sparking clash of flame
With smooth, subtle, cold,
Quenching shadow.

The deep burning of the sun,
Blush, blood flowing from
The futile fight with the
Encroaching darkness.
The last bits of light,
These little morsels of bright,
These must last the longest.

The spectacle is always unique,
Never will the battle,
The vain struggle,
Progress the same, rather
The blood, fire, warmth, the petals
Of the dancing rose, these
Still expect the same result.

Slowly, unrelenting, strong as time,
The blood darkens, dries,
The warmth slowly fades,
The fire roars, reduced from
It’s wild to the flicker of a candle,
And the dancing rose, it wilts,
The petals fail, and fall.

At last the struggle ends,
The victorious night slips in,
The rose is gone, heat is retired,
The candle falters,
Solaris, my light, flickers until
The last breath is taken,
Floating off into oblivion.