The sun had gone to sleep, putting to rest
the worries of the day. Silence at last.
This maybe the time when it is the best
laying to rest bad memories of past.
But the last rays of the slowly dying
sun fell upon your portrait on the wall,
in a quick vivid flash reigniting
painful memories one should not recall.
I saw your closed eyes, your pale, lifeless face;
earthly beauty, lying in fast eclipse,
n’ lamenting the loss of beauty and grace,
I felt the last kiss from your ice cold lips.
I thought: how could a condemned man have fun?
…So I cursed the day and the dying sun…
© P. J. Oszmann (2010)
© Illustration created in Photoshop (2010)