Purple, Orange, and Red

The sun is setting,
but forgetting will get us nowhere.
Failed attempts at peace dissolve ambition
and serve only as ammunition against this frail light.
Those sinking colors are magnificent,
ancient in their chaotic techniques,
Purple on the edges, Orange in parts,
and, at the heart, that prideful, bloody Red.
With them you go,
knowingly fading in time to that horizon,
leaving me only with the sun’s promise:
that bliss will come with the sunrise.
In this absence of light
past delight dissipates and gives way,
telling me to slip away, to forget the sun,
to run from all that I once knew.
I do not fear the darkness,
for it is less than the dawn;
there is no telling what tragedy lay in wait,
for the fate I once had is gone.