The sun sets on a cloudless day
As trumpets blare and soldier’s march
In dreams, of course, since time decays
More often ought then not
It bleeds, the sky, a slash of red
A cut, a crown, a diadem
A warning that we’ll soon be dead
Here comes the dying time
A fading breeze kisses our tongue
We taste it with pride-filled grasp
For youth was never quite as young
As when it was built and made to last
The sea air swoons to hear the news
The waves crash down on bright white sand
The army marches, twos and twos
The children marching, hand and hand
The sun sets on a rain cast day
The world lets out it’s breath with sighs
For life was just a game to play
Before the dying time
And nothing really ends this way
It’s just the dying time
