The Dream of Dusk

Under the blanket of warm grey clouds
Lies a night grave and quiet
When half the world lies in the caverns of dreams
A few fettered souls roam on roads unknown
They sit in the company of aimless thoughts
Or lie in the lap of wasteland
Laughing at floudering humanity
Or lamenting its heartless cruelty
Holding the hand of darkness
They warmly welcome the blushing crimson sun
The ignorant world wakes up to another day
They lie awaiting the conspiring moon.