It can mark the end of a day,
The end of a time,
The end of anything,
Cut down in it’s prime.
It’s the start of the night,
Of a new beginning,
Of anything at all,
As the Earth keeps on spinning.
We may hope it spins backwards,
So we can change the past,
But it only spins forwards,
So that nothing lasts.
As the sun sinks below its velvet covers,
And the light goes out,
On the scene of the two lovers,
Losing them to the night.
What was before so gentle and glowing,
So tender and warm,
Was ever slowly going..
Until it vanished completely.
Now all that remains of the scene above,
Are two silhouettes,
Unlucky in love.
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