The sun descends, its golden light refrains,
A canvas brushed with amber’s fleeting hues.
Through whispered winds, the day’s last joy remains,
A fleeting kiss the twilight can’t refuse.

The sky ignites in crimson’s soft embrace,
A fiery bloom that time will soon unlace.
Yet in its glow, a quiet peace imbues,
Each moment held, a perfect, fragile space.

The clouds alight, their edges etched with fire,
While shadows stretch like secrets yet to tell.
The day retires, its heart no longer higher,
But leaves behind a gentle, sweet farewell.

And though the night comes in
And all gets colder and blood runs thin
The beauty forever holds with these
Pulchra ignis finis