Rome has set on the sun,
Spreads the rays of its streets
And the warmth of its torches.
Caesar commands nightfall come,
To make florid incense and wine
And talk as one full of the moon.
The death of a day brings with colours
A glowing golden settles upon the sky
Gradually changing to an orange so deep, that it makes the puddles on the ground seem like liquid gold
As fast as it had arrived, the orange left
Leaving a scarlet in its place
The liquid gold turned to blood
The sky was a battelfield painted red
The once pure, white clouds
Were wounded soldiers staggering back to their homeland
After the airborne war passed, a black overtook the sky
Twinkling specks of light were scattered upon it,
making it seem as though a child spilled glitter across a black canvas
It was done in such a careless way yet,
It was perfect
The colours were gone
But they would return the following day,
Only to be replaced, once again, by the sparkling darkness.
— The End —