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Rated: E · Prose · Other · #1246992
A prose descibing a beautiful sunset experience...



This blissful evening is mine.



I cherish the ring
Of my crystal glass
As I place it on the table
Next to my chair.
The warm breeze tastes of ripe blackberries
Lying fresh and swollen
In a patch of thorns somewhere close by.
I lean back and look westward.


All the brilliant colors of the day
Begin to leak into the sky
From the dimming horizon.
The inks stolen from flowers and trees
Sunlight and butterflies
Slowly flooding from the tips of mountains
And corners of leaves
At the top of the tallest trees.


The lustrous flames
Of the crimson sun
Bleed into the depths of the heavens
And blend with the rainbow stripes
Flowing like wine through the sky.


As if jeweled flowers of ruby
Emerald, amethyst, and gold
Were melted down
Into vials of radiant ink
And an old, bearded painter
Dipped in his brush
And painted his splendid masterpiece
In the sky.


The minutes pass by
And I watch as God sprinkles stars
Like shining pearls
Into the fading waves
Of the dark blue sea.


The audience sat in that moment
Filled with the glory of nature
And her breath-taking beauty.
Only a handful of glossy ice cubes
Slightly molded together
Remained in my crystal glass.
I then wondered to myself
The worth of this brilliant production
Without another heart
To share it with.
And a calm sadness
Filled my heart;


And I felt so cold.


And I thought to myself
Beauty missed
Is the biggest tragedy
Of this life we live.

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