The Sunset’s Serenade

Between Illusions and Realities

Image captured by the author’s lens

As the evening completes its final stretch,
A luminous sunset paints the sky with a golden etch.
A melody strange yet familiar, echoes in the air,
Is it close or far, is it even there?

My heart recalls the tune from a time bygone,
Asks, “Is this life? Or is it merely a pawn
In the game of illusions, with no hope to gain,
Shall I embrace the chaos or refrain?”

The ebb and flow of life, a rhythm so divine,
At times euphoric, at times, a bitter brine.
The silence that beckons, the words that fail,
The fear that grips, the hope that sails.

I own nothing, everything seems to slip away,
Even my heart, that within me should stay.
Dreams that seemed so real, now a mirage,
Emotions so intense, now just a montage.

Birds in flight, the sun and the clouds,
Colors of twilight, a painting so profound,
A sadness lingers, a longing for the dream,
A fleeting smile, an attempt to redeem.