Sunset by
Mark Fitzpatrick
Why did she cry? For her there
was no surprise,
Streaming over our faces, tears
came from our eyes.
Her mouth opened, shut, words
came out,
My throat was dry, closed,
longing to shout.
Stepping forward, behind me I
hear a voice,
Doubts fill my mind, but I have
no choice.
As I lean and fall, all is a
blur,
All is spinning, is it her?
Too many sounds, unsure what I
hear,
Is this really the cure? I
miss you dear.
Air rushed past and now my
breath is gone,
Now I’ve forgotten what I was
running from.
The sun dips towards the
horizon, the air is still,
Lying here on a beach, the red
creeps up to fill.
The sea absorbs the colour.
All turns black.
The sunset is over. It can’t
be brought back.
