Sunset

a question tickling in my ear, o shall i let you die?
or shall i kiss you, grant you life and give you air to breathe?
it is the whisper of the sun, its golden fingers touch the sky
as evening approaches slowly, aspirates through shaking leaves.

its ruby cloak, a marvelous painting at the end of day;
reflections in the windows of the building right across the street –
the last rays of a planet burning million miles away;
i wish it could just melt the ice and plant a warmer seed.

but all there is to hope for will be hidden in the mist of night,
and all there will be is the darkness easing my own pain;
so i will hide there in its arms until i see the morning light.

the paleness of my face seems eager challenging the moon,
while i am gathering all my strength not to go insane...
for at moments just like these i doubt you'll be here soon.