The Anatomy of a Sunset

The Anatomy of a Sunset

The sky is set aflame,
As day succumbs to twilight's name,
A fiery orb, a burning wheel,
Descends, its final moments to reveal.

The clouds, a canvas, painted red,
Reflect the hues of the dying thread,
Golden rays, like gentle fingers play,
As sunset's final dance begins to sway.

The colors bleed, a gradient wide,
From orange deep to pink inside,
The sun, a burning ember, low,
Sinks slowly, its final light to show.

The stars, like diamonds, start to gleam,
As night's dark veil begins to beam,
The sunset's anatomy, a work of art,
A fleeting moment, forever to depart.

The clouds, a fiery mist, ascend,
As sunset's final breath, begins to end,
The sky, a kaleidoscope, turns slow,
A masterpiece, in shades of gold and glow.

The world, bathed in a warm, soft light,
Is painted in hues, of pure delight,
The sunset's anatomy, a symphony grand,
A celestial show, across this land.