Midas Sunset
Midas paints in golden hues upon the sky,
Cascading from his canvas,
Into the river drifting by,
A looming tower embraces setting sun,
On a window of reflection,
Now the day is nearly done,
Eyes glisten as a wonder unfolds,
Pale faces touched by Midas,
In this city of gold,
For a moment the world stands undisturbed,
Only the flow of the river,
And the blackbird can be heard.