The Falling Sun

The sun descends, a fiery sigh,

Across the canvas of the sky.

Its golden hues in shades now blend,

Toward a night that will transcend.

Long shadows creep from every wall,

As day recedes, the echoes fall.

A hush descends, a peaceful grace,

As twilight paints the time and space.

The birdsong fades, a gentle lull,

Replaced by crickets' evening call.

A symphony of stars ignites,

As darkness drapes the fading lights.

The sun, a ember, dips below,

A final kiss on peaks of snow.

The world awaits, in silent awe,

The moon's pale glow, the rising dawn.