They shone in the obscurity
of every sunset.
Eyes absorbed every teardrop
that welled in there vacant
tombstone eyes.
But they were more than
obscuration,
within the stages of radiant demise.
They collected the bounty of those that
versed from the sacred paths of hues.
There were those that had feel between
optic blades and the indistinct gleams
that were contentious wounds that were
underhanded shades.
The tinges, neither pure of light.
And those that feel in the eclipse of darkness.
But it was a secret conclave of those
who were fractured between both.
But within the collective of shade
and illumination.
Where those that versed the combination
as a sacrilege to the foundations
of eternities motion.
Everyone but a few colluded to constant versions,
qualified hues had to change,
or the universe would grow stagnant.
And so began the feud between the shades
of perpetual opacity.
As the evanescence shimmers
where all where falling
like dead stars
cleaving within the benighted landscape.
We all glared like life was burying its self.
But they walked between us,
shimmers of what was wanted.
And the reputations of our reflections.
Everything must evolve, even the reflections
that fall between the cracks of life's obscurities.
