An end of day, When all the shadows face away.
The blackened skies reflect a world that I despise.
The stars are met, the sun is set, the scenes of day collapse,
Faded with the crimson-tinted light,
I stare out at the moving clouds, which shortly shall elapse,
And ponder best to rest and say 'Goodnight.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem