I feel like everything around me is slowly dimming, like a sunset.
I want to reach out, to grab it, to pick it back up.
To keep it in the sky. Keep it shining. Keep it gleaming.
you can’t pick up the sun.
I just have to stand here, and wait for it to rise again.
But I don’t know how long, how cold, how dark the night will be.
I don’t know what will happen, if anything.
But the sun will rise again, just like it always does.
NoWrongAnswers-- to say that i enjoy reading this piece would be a gross understatement. since you posted it, ive read it over and over (and over) again. ive been in this dusky plane of mind described here so many times; i almost feel as if i have an intimate relationship with each and every word you use. your writing style is precise and poignant, and because of this it entraps the reader in a unique and intriguing way. keep blessing the forum with your prose.