As the glazed sun droops below the hills
Its evening gaze pierces the shadows of the ebony clearing
The warming light refracts
The towering sentinels gracefully shake their bronze and crimson-clad
brooches
Like jewels plucked by an invisible thread
Their brethren stripped away.
An aerial waltz is their only passion
The brook waves ripple with a gentle embrace
Their journey has begun
With sails afloat as they set off for new horizons
Some crewmen are battered and lost at sea
Only a fortunate few will reach their final destination
For the journey is bittersweet
Have pity for them for their time is short
Loathsome hands clutch at their fragile frames
And pull with a spiteful desire
Twilight air vanishes from their grasp
While the sun shrinks smaller and smaller, clouded by a rippled view
Darkness engulfs their souls
As each slowly sinks
The journey of the brethren is at end
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