Crepuscule

[Saga]

cre-pus-cule

[n; latin

crepusculum

]

^T

^{he diffused light from the sky during the early evening}

^{or early morning when the sun is below the horizon and}

^{its light is refracted by the earth's atmosphere.}

---

---

He shook a gesture to the table for the glass,

another ice cub banged the gong of loneliness.

It was just him and his old friend, solitude.

 

A speech formed in the dim of his gaze,

difficult to be designed in words.

The silk strands brushed against the pale skin,

sunlight urged to tan him, badly.

 

Frigid chuckle crawled up his throat,

the thoughts collided in and clung to silence.

**

It's just a dead numbness,

corpse would dance better upon this masquerade.

But better than anyone, he knew his counts.

Counts of many things, nameless even.

 

I just stood there, watching.

He never noticed, that I better than him -

knew the core of his sin.

 

He urged to kill like the madmen he's been studying about.

But he fed the strays and laughed at the greed.

The most of all he fell in love with sincerity and loyalty,

rather the idea of them.

But all he did was facing the falsifiers, and day by day

he learned to understand the sincere lie.

Whenever he lost someone precious,

he'd just sit aback and watch - the lack of will numbed with pain.

But once he lost his cat, then he looked for it through the whole

darned rainy night. And caught a cold.

He learned to back slap the ego within humans, through plain truth.

But it gained him nothing but despair.

Sadly, it became a sweet guilt to tear their eyes open -

some cursed him, others cried, third ..ah, they fell for him.

But he never cared because that was only his truth, and he knew it.

Yet in the lonely nights before the crepuscule broke in, he always

wondered whether there was a truth at all. How lonely humanity became,

that they needed something to guilt up for truth.

And then he lost many things more, and more. Until he stopped caring.

But the cat, he still slept with it in such lonely nights.

On happy days he'd mourn for the heck of it, and on sad days, he fought

with all his might to keep on living.

He desired many things, as well. To embrace with kindness someone,

then shove them ten feet under the ground.

The joy of breaking and snapping their cords, then he felt guilt. Truth was,

there was no such to begin with. He wasn't wise, nor smart. He was just

a human of contradictions.

To love, he wondered, in such lonely nights, what was it. Has it ever occurred - pity, if he never realized it.

And so he shrugged it off and caressed his cat with most gentlest gesture.

 

Only the crepusucle light showed his true colors -

the wet trace of a salty dew reaching the softness of lips,

he just fell asleep with the thought of someone to love.