The slow flutter of the dying leaves that fall loosely through the sky…
The ebbing flow of the icy waters against the rough grains of beach…
The dying beams of the sun as it falls below the shoulders of the earth…
What lies as harsh against the soul as the sands of time?
Goodbye to the sun. Goodbye to the light.
A red moon assaults me as I sail forever into the night.
Jon Gray Lang.com 