There is a lesson in this calamity of gold,
Though the struggling orb takes no solace,
Igniting against dusk one final onslaught bold.
Battalions of royal, red, sepia, pink,
Wash outward against night’s ally storm,
Engaging grey and violet, blue and black,
Until the sky bursts in a vanity of monstrous form.
Corpses of the fallen swath mountains of darkness
With their daunting wraiths of decaying hue
Until no more resistance can be fathomed…
Yet one last stand is bravely combusted anew.
I recognize despite an all devouring rout
This star will not go gentle into this death of light.
With grudging admiration for such heroic plight,
Humbled by this ageless battle’s evocative might.
I indulge in the stirring beauty of this sight,
Even as I celebrate my allegiance to mother night.
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