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Sunset of the Forlorn
There is a time when the day dies.
In that time, the sky turns red in day’s final bloodshed.
It turns red not for the dying day alone.
But for the blood of lost souls and broken hearts during the day’s lifetime also.
The sun. It is but meter for the day’s lifetime.
It sinks lower weeping red for it could only watch the needless bloodshed.
Powerful the sun may seem, but powerless it really is.
The sun weeps red for it was unable to protect the forlorn ones.
The day. The broken hearts. The lost souls.
The sun sinks lower in shame. Only to rise again as it brings upon the birth of a new day.
But what of the other forlorn ones?
They remain forever forsaken, forgotten by the sun, as they are by everyone else.
The sun rises again with a new day, and with new forlorn ones with it.
Only to sink again. The loss of the forlorn ones it weeps red again.
Day after day, the sun weeps for the lost ones, the days, the broken hearts, the lost souls.
Yet it rises again, only renewing the days.
The broken hearts and lost souls. They are never to be seen again.
The sun forgets, forsakes, the forlorn ones forever, weeping insincerely.
It was always insincere.
The forlorn ones victimized by hypocrisy even in death.
The moon to bring them to unnecessary purgatory.
But does the sun care? It still weeps for the dead days.
The sun is not true; it may not be what it seems…
The sunset of the innocently victimized…? No.
The sunset of the forlorn it may be in reality all along…Category Poetry / Scenery
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File Size 39 kB
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