-A rip within Beauty

Whether I have the morning light on my dewy face

That melts like candle wax;

The tears that are so mistakenly placed, 

Yelling and screaming in the purple moonlit haze

With the golden Orb rising from the east, 

I can never forget 

With what piercing brightness,

Sunset brings out from within its High throne.

So quietly hidden, that 

Not even its ironed rays know

Where to lay when the time has come to

Greet the Midnight Moon.

Therefore they plaster themselves on a quiet,

Sleeping canvas:

Dimming the mourning sky 

With a lustrous orange drape,

That hides the stars behind.

Its folds creating an immerse maze

Of seamless starlight.

They were shamed by humble beauty, 

The curtain teared into strips,

Revealing the hidden,

Naked Night.

Its violet colours now blending with the orange drape,

Creating what is now known

As Twilight.

Author's Note

-M. B