Will there be a beautiful sky
Before the sun will set and die?
Will its decpetion be so cruel
To make me die a naive fool?
Or will the sky turn black and grey,
Elicit thoughts that once were fey?
Tell all below this is the end?
One last goodbye to a friend.
But if the sky decieved my mind
Would I find it so unkind?
Would I crave awareness of
The day of which I lose my love?
Or rather would I find content
My last peaceful moments spent,
In glory beneath the sunny rays
A smile before a slow decay.