You are the innocent soul
that lies beyond the hallowed edge of night.
A final breath of ghosts is the closest I'll arrive.

You stretch your lustrous limbs one last time
before vanishing beyond the secret border,
leaving an unfinished, but permanent shape in your place

to fill a gargantuan pit you leave behind in the sky.
Nothing can succeed you. Thus the night is empty
and all wanderers of Earth are left to sleep.

The bed is my make-shift coffin, and the horizon is yours.
Your death pit is always filled with a luminescent light,
and mine will be filled with a crepuscular dust.