evening

evening

I was born at 6pm

I guess you could call me a 

Sunset baby

A child of the evening

I write after 6pm

You could call me a sunset poet

A lady of the night

When the sly takes a big bite and swallows

Golden sun burning the lungs

Day takes its place at the gallows

The execution of the morning the evening becomes 

Primordial and painted with purple red blood

Darkness is coming!

Prepare for the flood!

Ignite all the candles and let slip your sin

Leave a crack in the window

To let the spirit in…

And now it is dark

The time: 6:05

And the night has brought the soul of the artist back to life