You say

Outside, the sky is burning

That this is the colour

That the sky will drape itself in

The day everything ends

The colour of destruction

I say

Everything burns in the end

Leaves, stars, bodies

For that is the way

The universe is built.

I say

It is the day

Not slipping away meekly

But fighting, blending

Clashing, churning

With the dark of night

Creating a beauty

That is fleeting

That lasts but for

A fraction of the day

Colours fading, glowing

Mixing, melting

On the canvas

Of the open sky

I say

There’s blazing gold

Bleeding into blues

Setting the sky alight

There’s darkening blue

Speckled with the silver

Of shy stars

I say

It is the colour

That makes trees look

Like mere silhouettes

With leaves painted onto them

With gorgeous, but

Painstaking detail

You say

What you see is

The end of a day

Bleeding away

Like the red ebbing

From weeping wounds

And cooling cheeks

In the final gasps

Of a dying man

I say

Endings can be beautiful

They can be

Heartbreaking and glorious

That sometimes,

The colour of sunsets

And dusk

The colours of endings

May just be

The most beautiful

Of them all.



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