It was a loss of a day,
Over days,
In the light of those days,
That was, that will nevermore be
The sine of that day,
By edge of its golden sun rays,
A fire spinning vortex,
Pitched into the lightless splay
The dark matters of that night
Allowing you to die,
Asking you to leave behind,
Or telling you it's time
It was finding under the moonlight,
Fast hours, faster minutes, fastest of
Seconds,
Gaining speed by the centuries,
The surrender our death beckons.
©nirajbaral
N