I am the dusk

I am the dusk
then it will be dark
fiery ball cools
weary of the scorching day
sliding down rapidly
pulling the rays down
pausing briefly at the rim
Just for one last look
at its creation
before it is night
last stroke of golden brush
paints the sky crimson
I am the dusk
slowly turning dark
last rays lingers on my wings
warming it, to be alive
it no time to be trapped
its my final flight
I reach out to the glowing light
and I soar
its a new day

I see it clear

On the 6th floor
the blind rolls up with a whir.
Turbulence and calm, converse in silence
with a drunken slur.

The glass fights the noise
and wins
Allowing private space
for the divergent twins

Flashes of lights
leave a trail on the busy arrow of time
Reminder of the many scars
as the face meets the grime

Cacophony of noise
create a din
Numbing the senses
And I keep repeating the sin

Every noise startling
Every flash blinding
Every face threatening
Every face scared

The images speed up
while my anchors weigh me down
Each “Like” holding back a part of me
keeping me afloat, as I perpetually drown

I get split and stretched
afraid to lose any thread
Hoping these divine looms
will help stitch me back instead

Sitting on the 6th floor window
the glass screens the Cacophony of the Seen
The blinding flashes turn to glitter
and the chaotic images look serene

The elevation reveals the picture
hidden by the hectic sieve
The distance saves the real
from the elaborate make-believe

There is light beyond
these flashes so phoney
and there is the sound
beyond this cacophony

I am a speck
Entwined in the knots of the divine tapestry
I am a pixel
in the vast pattern of the grand canopy

The window allows
me to hear.
The blinds open with a whir
And I see it clear