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He stared at the evening sun,
basking in the last of its blood orange. The sea seemed to be
weeping as she let go of her friend. The orange faded into a bleak
He stared at the evening sun, basking in the last of its blood orange. The sea seemed to be weeping as she let go of her friend. The orange faded into a bleak grey. But soon the stars twinkled bright, they twinkled in perfect synchrony almost like the Rockettes on Broadway. The wheels of time pushed forward never to retrace its steps ever again, but he was left there. He revelled in his beauty, knowing that even though he was freckled- he was beautiful. But he was tired. So very tired. He lay there, staring at all and nothing. He seemed to have no will left to rise to his feet. His heart yearned, ached to believe that it was gravitys fault, that it was gravity that rendered him so. But his mind knows that it was only him who was tired of just reflecting. The waves continue to play tag with the shore, the sky looks like the colour of coal, and he shrugs off his sorrows for another day. And the moon floats higher up the sky and patiently hopes to heal.