When Dusk Draws Nigh
Silence morphs the call of falling dusk
Gathering under fiery skies,
Stilled leaves in sombre silence hang
Moping at the darkness that plies.
Dusty paths the homebound cattle plod
Syrupy chirping of birds in flight,
Smoke from the earthen ovens pause
Wistfully staring at twilight.
Frenzied bats eke out their weary awls
Urging the evening star to wait,
To let moon lord overnight,
And muse over their morbid fate.
Wind over the placid river brings
Low tidings for cicadas to cry,
Fathom the fragrant moonflower will
Need endeavour to pacify.
When vigil of stark skeletal boughs
Stand mournful over the hooting owl,
And the mist like a wimple veils
The nocturnal creatures that prowl.
Those who lie in cemeteries stark
Berate the mausoleums old,
Affording them scant room to move
Adding to their ordeals untold.
Crimson dawn will pale the darkened sky
For light to lug another day,
Darkness would need wait again
For dusk to come upon its way.
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