At the commencement of dusk,
the sunlight varnishing the atmosphere.
Natural hues came to life,
spreading warm and beautiful vibes.
Soft flurry whir in the vaccum,
turned the silent cacophony into a warm rhythm.
Soothing the ears of the beholder;
soaring from west to east in light whisper.
Towards the horizon, perched on stones;
cold not affecting the skinny bones.
Juvenile hands made paper boats,
which created ripples as they float.
A sigh escaped the cracked lips,
while laying down on sand hips.
With tears ceased in seven year old eyes;
stared into infinity hope filled with lies.
Passing minds who saw that scape
tend to smile remembering their nonage.
Unknown that the fisherman’s son sailed them with a desire;
to bring his father back, which was truly bizzare.
Little did he know the harsh reality
that wishes were just to feed the despair of one’s being;
fed with hordes of lies that we formulate with mere words
and in the end they do nothing but disappoint and destroy us.