Swallowed by the velvet film of nightfall, I watch as amber windows fade to ink, The quiet murr of movement gently dulled, As glowing midnight lights begin to blink.
I used to come to watch the city rest. To hear the soft hoots lightly filter by, To hear the crickets, find their voice again, Yet now, the world is silent where I lie.
As bitter wind whips by in frostbite air, I hear the call of cowboys waft away, Echoes of a simpler lifestyle fading And stifled in a sea of boundless grey.
No more dazzling whiteness in the heavens, My brilliant stars have fallen from the sky, As mottled shards of moonlight blotch the ground A gloomy scent of burning brushes by.
The slightest acrid whisper of the times, Now settles fitfully upon my tongue, Colouring the darkness shades of anguish, Lamenting stolen light from times of young.
Alone, above, I grieve a dying sight, The splendour of my effervescent stars, Now whittled down to mournful lifeless points, That feebly heed the twilight from afar.
