We assemble beneath the bleeding horizon,
to witness the fall of light’s sovereign reign.
Its ascent was a hymn we dared not question,
its descent, a requiem we failed to prepare for.
Once, the sky burned as if to warn us—
a flame too vibrant, too holy,
meant always to consume itself.
Yet we stood, foolish and bare,
as if permanence was promised.
The sun wore its mortality openly,
its splendor t...
