4 views
Dusk
The crescent moon hides within sight
As the falling king loses its might
From the eastern winds to the western skies,
Its subtle downfall as it lashes in fright.
The ascension marks its newfound power,
Left the the stars no choice but to run and cower.
The clouds move past like the wind’s about the blow,
The shadows emerge as it struggles to keep afloat.
The end is near, now that it sees its crown,
Its place now replaced by the likings of a clown.
As the last glory the old king remembers,
Are the warm hands of fate which down out its last embers.
© All Rights Reserved
As the falling king loses its might
From the eastern winds to the western skies,
Its subtle downfall as it lashes in fright.
The ascension marks its newfound power,
Left the the stars no choice but to run and cower.
The clouds move past like the wind’s about the blow,
The shadows emerge as it struggles to keep afloat.
The end is near, now that it sees its crown,
Its place now replaced by the likings of a clown.
As the last glory the old king remembers,
Are the warm hands of fate which down out its last embers.
© All Rights Reserved
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