Sunset to Moonrise


NOTE: The original looks like the image





Yawning, the light of a passing day dips the horizon in an apricot die




Rich light penetrates the disjointed glass, filtering in between the window panes and spills onto the floor



Thick tendrils of the sky swirl over the ground around them, burning



Metallic ichor flows in tangled streams, pouring with the pulse of tortured screams



Hearts red as the blood in them, ebbing out between the lips of the dying



The trickles that escape and fall, to dry and crack under the depressed light




Thoughts lur acid drops of rain to splatter ice onto innocent skin, sucking the color from it



Darkness falls and envelops all life in its sinister hands, cloaking, choking the weakened light



Blankets of cold ash climb to the wicks, and use the last bit of luminescence to start a delicate ember




Born is a single flame that multiplies and takes its place in the dome of the sky


This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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