Fools’ Paradise

During twilight the heavens set ablaze
Laced by fuchsia bittersweet hands.
As the flare calms in the beryl sky
The hazed fingers sweep the sands.
Casting tiny golden pebbles aimlessly
Upon the wind to breeze all creation.
Beyond any natural terrene, the rays
Magnify to a caramel constellation.



Indigo blankets smother the horizon
Comforting the days coal smudge.
A bewildered soul wants to belong
Although the honour was misjudged.
Flutters the ethereal fringed wings
Whilst perfecting a forged crown.
Conscious of the secluded vision
Musing to embrace the sun down.