When the sun goes down,
The world slows down,
The sky turns gold,
The day’s story is told.
The birds fly home,
The stars start to roam,
The moon takes its place,
The world’s a quieter space.
The trees whisper secrets,
The breeze sings sweet regrets,
The night is young and free,
A time for you and me.
© VishalDutia
Leave a Reply