Here heeds a warm sun,
that eloped from a harsh moonlight.
Bare like the moon it sits on an orange horizon and sheds a rear.
Shining a spark of hope into empty jars of light.
It sits quietly in a crisp summer evening , overlooking an empty world.
Streets lining up to Graveyards.
All roads lead to the cemetery.
Graves standing solemnly under wilted tombstones.
Cold air hitting the atmosphere silently ,it brings
back old memories of lost life , bitter lives , sweet lives.
Motherfull and childfull graves ooze in the midst ,a shattering scene.
They’ve all returned to dust to which they came from .
Good night you might die tomorrow,or in your sleep.
If you do … sweet dreams.