I am the dusk
then it will be dark
fiery ball cools
weary of the scorching day
sliding down rapidly
pulling the rays down
pausing briefly at the rim
Just for one last look
at its creation
before it is night
last stroke of golden brush
paints the sky crimson
I am the dusk
slowly turning dark
last rays lingers on my wings
warming it up, keeping it alive
it no time to be trapped
its my final flight
I reach out to the glowing light
and I soar
its a new day
My Tales Within 