What is it about sunsets...More Like This
I'm sitting on the meadow, on top of the small, green hill. I was setting-up my tent, but the sudden silence in the air made me stop and sit on the grass. Everything around me started turning into dark shapes against the green, turquoise sky. A small, barely visible crest of the young Moon rose up, just above the horizon. the Sun was long gone, but its traces were still painting the sky in that wonderful, sunset mixtures of colours impossible to reproduce to capture in any way. The colour of the sunset sky is much more than just about the sky itself. It is about the stillness in the air, the soft, tender breeze; muted sounds in the distance and that inevitable feeling that another day is passing by. It might have been a great day, full of joy and things we love. We might have spent that day in our favourite city, on top of our favourite mountain or in the arms of the loved one.
It could have been a hard day, God knows life offers plenty of those too. Work, people, deadlines and everyda
These are Stains that wont eraseThese are stains that won’t eraseMore Like This
despite your tries – so do behave.
They’re mine, not yours, heed my advice
for these are stains that won’t erase.
These are stains that won’t erase,
reprisals for one doomed, disgraced.
Loitering ‘pon shoulders, this burden
Weighs down on scars that won’t erase.
Ah, suffering’s the blessing bestowed
upon the child whose prayers erode -
whose canvas is a blemished mess
of teary stains that won’t erase.
Tender reflections serve but naught
save for splintering hopes unsought.
Reality, truths you display -
truths oh so harsh that won’t erase.
Oh slumber bequeath me your grace,
shelter me from infamy’s graze.
Yet fickle dreams why embody
tainted memoirs that won’t erase?
Such veils of masquerade you wear;
What incarnations of Nightmares
Hold silent sneers and gloating eyes -
Oh stares of scorn won’t you erase?
Caution pertaining to despair -
A stake sign stating “please bewa