Oh, how the sunset boasts
of beauty and majestic hues tinted
for which everything its finger touches
like a king, greater than Midas could ever be
boastful as it resurrects, humbly
opening another dawn.

And there lies the moon
settling between the brilliance
of the days to and had come, without
a shroud of pride - the sun's magnificence
shares half the credit to the lamp
which waits in the dark.