How?
How do you say goodbye—
to the flight of sunset?
When you’ve lived,
so long, within
Its golden light?
How do you say goodbye—
to the beauty,
whose warmth, seems
forever right?
The glory of the sun
will set, due to no fault
of its own.
The glory of the sun
will set, because someone,
has called the light
home.
So what do you do?
When the lights—
go out?
When the darkness
avails? Where grief
and pain roam, or
even shouts?
Just rest in the
fact—that night,
however strong,
is temporal…
And that she will
rise, yet again—
reunited, no longer
to be alone.
Benjamin Thomas
The Writing Train: Join the locomotion 