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In daylight they writhe
In darkness they are blind
In moonlight they die
From twilight they are born
From birth they are scorned
From serenity they are raised
Nothing to feel
Nothing to hate
Nothing to love but for the blood red sky
For blood they strive
For ash the bride
For dawn is nigh
A path will be seen
A path to follow
A path of thunder
No return
No destination
No time
Few will follow
Few will see
Few will stay
One to reach
One to save
One to continue
In a world of twilight
In a world of red
In a world with none but them
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'Tis the hour before full dark,
When the day comes near its close,
And the starlings chase the insects
Through a sky of deeper
And the spectrum, suddenly, a paradox
As the light fades and the darkness is held at bay
A suspension in time, where reality
Something about Twilight
Something about walking in twilight
Lends itself to quiet contemplation of the night
In the cold, a
A state that's not been quite defined
Between full night and when the sun will rise
With eyes wide open you wait out this time
I
by Ian Lundbom
In daylight they writhe
In darkness they are blind
In moonlight they die
From twilight they are born
From birth they are
View All Articles on:
Poetry: Twilight
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