Though the sun has not lost all hope
Despite some of the things she’s seen
And still climbs up the eastern slope
With the grace of an aging queen,
She succumbs to the guillotine
Of nightfall when the moon reclaims
The throne, a stately figurine,
Freeing shadows caught between her flames.
2018 © Sonya Annita Song
Reowr 
I enjoyed the vivid images.
I’m glad you enjoyed it! 🙂
Beautiful time transitioning into night. Thanks for the sublime imagery.
And thank you for your lovely words and reading! 🙂
Beautiful writing is easy on the eyes 🙂 Thank YOU!
Ditto 😉
Gorgeous Sonya!!!
Many thanks Jordy! 🙂
This is very creative. I’ve never imagined the transition from day to night being quite so violent.
At least you didn’t ask how the queen regrows her head every morning.
I had considered the possibility of a sequel, but they’re scarecely as good.
Hmm, now that’s a challenge…
Love the creativity!
Much appreciated! 🙂
You’re welcome! 😊
So very beautiful!
I’m glad you enjoyed it. 🙂
Nice! I’m gonna write one from Jon Snow’s perspective
I would love to read it when it’s ready if you want to drop me a link. 🙂
Charlee: “We’re glad the sun hasn’t given up yet.”
Chaplin: “Yes, without the sun, there wouldn’t be any sun puddles for us to sleep in!”
I love to splash in sun puddles! That’s brilliant. Thank you. 🙂
Startlingly beautiful poem
Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed it. 🙂
You’re welcome🙂
love the metaphor
Thank you so much! 🙂
Reblogged this on .
Awesome ! I liked it 👑
Thank you! Glad you enjoyed it. 🙂