Sunset in the West

When the Sun goes down in the West, there are people joined together in the evening twilight. There are people joined together in the awe of the late October Sunset. It has already gone down below, beneath the ground. All that is left are the silhouetted hills and the trees of the moist and cooling English Countryside.

A party of people all joined together on the hillside watching the death and remnants of the death of that most glorious of Days. People together but not knowing each other in the cooling dimness. The shiver of the darkness, touching each and every one, stood in silence, in the solemn and the grand and the wondrous decapitation of Light.

A multitude of eyes together, fixed. A multitude of minds, together, silenced. No thought filled the mind of any of these people, couples, families, lone walkers, each one alone in that Sunset of the West. Each alone witnessing the sky being drenched in red splendour as if beneath the horizon a horrific and violent death had taken place, with blood being diluted and permeating upwards in that afterglow.

Each on there own feels closer to the ones next to them on that burning glow. The fiery nature of that red sky like an ember for the mind, warming despite its dissipating heat, and the cooling air. Warming the soul nullifying the emotional state of the nation, all looking towards the West where the wind blew blustering and sputtering with rain and leaves from the darkest of black clouds which threatened the whole scene.

The thoughts and the pains that run through the mind of man are besieged, are brought down from their prideful place of illuminations and illusions in the scene of the setting of the Sun in the West. The trials and the pains and the frustrations that run through the mind of women are brought down from their prideful place, of illuminations, and illusion in the scene of the setting of the Sun in the West.

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One response

15 10 2010
RK

This is very beautifully written. I really enjoy your work.

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