dying trees lend falling leaves

the air is getting colder

the sun she circles slower as she sees

the world grow older.

for it wasn’t all that long ago

the grass was warm and green,

and it’s not so many years ago

that night was just the passing time

between

the precious hours

that the world grew ever younger

in the sun.

but night would close eventually

she never saw it coming.

He would soon be starved for light

yet still

she kept on running

round and round. She kept her rise

but in the end would always go,

and for that his eyes he lowered

and decided to grow old

and cold

and trade the leaves and light

for the true and constant bitterness

of night.

the ground is cold and dark now in

the absence of the day.

the sun she sets alone and rues she ever

went away.

for the world has now forgotten ever being

warm and bright

and will grow much older

colder in this never ending night

who takes notice,

though he none,

of the ever present patience of

the fading sun.