The Sunset

Ultimately the horizon enfolds the golden ball,
Hazy rays, well defined,
Unceasingly illuminate,

As she says Au Revoir,
As she strives, her hand to wave,
The glow from her eyes seems to etiolate,
She seems drained; she appears primed,
To curvet and embark on her pilgrimage,
Wayfaring to a world, uknown.

To those she leaves behind,
The color from her face debilitated,
As torturous as it is, we have to let go,
To try and subsist in the wintry,
Rusticate to our sheds and hope.

By; N. Kennedy. M.

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