PAD 8: Sundown

This is a make-up for Saturday’s missed poem on the prompt of panic.

 

Sundown

 

Night creeps in

Stealing the light little by little

Til all that is left are weak beams

From more than 25 trillion miles away

From a sphere that may already be gone,

And the panic slips in beside it,

Changing you into someone else,

Someone you can neither recognize

Nor control as we wait for sunrise and

Your return.

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