By: Anyssa Q. E
Silence, before the darkness hung;
Within this pristine prism of crepuscule.
Silence, as the twilight strung;
Ad infinitum sheen of dusk-light pools.
Violescent was the dimensional night,
As midnight floated as a cloud,
A shimmering mass of nebular glass;
Mirroring my dreams aloud.
Along the road dripped in deep vermillion,
A silent twilight bath,
Hanging tassles of ivy and crimson,
Scatter this dream-cast path.
The golden figure, to you I yield,
My statue built from stardust clay.
My swollen-eyed epiphany,
I greet you in this star-lit grey.