Twilight Time Poem by shimon weinroth

Twilight Time



the sun still high in the sky,
soon slowly sinks,
the beams shrink,
almighty presence ebbing,
gives way to another bugle call

before the shadows shroud,
a twilight time
still and unmoving,
silence oppressing
looks neither right nor forward

lethargy turning sour
fear creeps in the hour
sails of hope motionless
winds of desire in limbo
each moments nothing an eternity

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