Written in sand,
not here to stay.
a soft line,
innocence.
The name,
not there to stay,
never forgotten,
always a smile.
pale gold,
stained
blood red,
in the dying suns grasp.
fighting for it's hold,
as the moon takes control.
The beauty to marvel.
but never the cost,
who thinks for the dying sun?
who thinks the price?
never considered,
but the reason it's there.
slowly the colour fades,
giving way to blackness.
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