And the Petals Fall

Three Setting Suns

An angel of sorts, a lamp glowing with kindness;

Never needed anything more,

Nor less.

I'll read a book in that radiance,

And leave it open when I go 

To watch 

The pinkish curtains 

Grace the light of the first setting sun.

A plot of land watered by stolen time;

Was it to flower

Or to be left unnourished?

With expectations set on oneself

Higher than an eagle above a storm,

The amount of sweat produced

Could only fill a cup

Only to be vaporized by the fire of the second setting sun.

A reversible failure that was failed again;

There's no third chance left.

Does that make me worthless?

Undeserving?

To some extent, yes.

It's time to vomit out the ego,

Gulp a mug of humility,

And swallow it all with the rays of the third setting sun.

___