The sun is sinking fast now,
falling through a powder blue.
I want to call it back somehow,
but it’s leaving me,
to come to you.
The evening’s creeping up the sky.
Its’ golden touch, a settling sigh
of honeyed words,
and worlds that turn.
The sun is sinking fast now,
falling through a powder blue.
I want to call it back somehow,
but it’s leaving me,
to come to you.
The evening’s creeping up the sky.
Its’ golden touch, a settling sigh
of honeyed words,
and worlds that turn.