Antares placidly fades
from the deep and high blanket,
He absconds from being one
of the many faces in the crowd.
He will be the brightest one,
But not on this sky, langga.
Not this one.

Dark and deep blanket embraces
flush-tainted, vast spread;
the transition is both breath-taking
and dangerous.
Inevitable change has come to him
but he's not afraid.
If anything, he's excited.

Your overwhelming orange smile
rises from the east.
Whooping, screaming,
greeting delight and passion;
waking up what's sleeping within
and fueling my dim ignition of hope.