TWILIGHT ZONE
When the sun sparks in the horizon,
And the trees bow low to the ground.
The splashing in the evening breeze
Cannot be ignored and can be embraced.
Upon clinging to the night sky,
Did you dazzle and look for its domain?
Trembling down the atmosphere's arms
Clinging to the leaves wherein it drowns.
The sound of the crickets ' voices
Echoes down the listener's ears;
Crumbling down with the blow of the wind,
Strengthens its path that no one could explain.
The echo of its sound is like a music that lingers on,
Tickling down the midst of the night;
Waiting to be opened or grasped by sight
Leaving its beauty 'til the bright of the day.
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