The sun sets as I stare at the colours in the sky,
You don’t even sit and notice the beauty,
You’re sitting and painting, not the sky,
But me.
Me staring at the horizon,
Where reds, oranges, and yellows bleed out of the sky to turn into purples, blues, and blacks.
The moon erupts out of a patch of black
And light illuminates the sky.
A full moon,
With no wolves in sight,
Just me, a girl who admires the sky’s beauty, and a painter, who admires my charisma,
Nobody is in sight; the world is fast asleep,
And I stay up late thinking of the worst of this world,
While staring at the best part of it.
I should be asleep,
Should be afraid of the dark like the others,
But no, I stay to see the best parts of the darkness;
The light.
We fear what we don’t know,
And they don’t know what’s beyond their fears of darkness,
And that’s light.
While they admire something as blindly as the sun,
I admire what they believe could ****,
So I stay to show them,
But they don’t see,
They’re blinded by the sun’s beauty,
That covers the more admirable beauty of the night.
When I see sunsets and think of how under-appreciated night really is.