Beauty resides in the sun's setting
It's a contract promising to bear life:
A brand new day shall be created, letting
We ravens drift on rays, devoid o' strife.
The price: darkness; interest: accrued starshine---
Always succumbing to sun without signs.
Did Eve know of the deal? Was she lost?
As sun set, did she fear the awful night?
Perhaps she ate the fruit this way, the cost
of our race established for lack of light?
Dusk and autumn beauteous are, recall
this ever, e'en as you begin to fall.