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Your rays, the many poems I can write about you. How I can call you mine, my gorgeous sunshine. In the nighttime you are there, in the morning your twin returns. But it is you I love the most, for you are a sunset. Each and every glance I deprive of you, I never want to give back. The many things I would do to see you, for you are a sunset.
Counting, I've made almost ten poems for you. The words form in my head as you circle around me. It's so hard to return to reality after something so unrealistic. How can this be that you, Sunset, can be spotted by something so unworthy? It's hard to understand what you're saying, but I've got it. See, Sunset, you start the night.
Your identical twin, Sunrise, may be pretty but not as fine as you. Sunset, by starting the nighttime, I can see so much more of your good side. This being said, nighttime is one of my favorites as well. But you, Sunset, are my very favorite.
I love the way you swirl into pink from red, and then into a deep gold. Is there anything I wouldn't do for you, Sunset? Well, yes, but those things are very limited. Every time I see you, I'm tempted to video tape it. How on earth could you possibly be so?
I'll describe you my very best, I'll describe one of my first sights of you. Rich and full hue, of gold and pink fixed in two. Huge like a sea of golden mass, your beauty even better than the last. A touch of honey, a mindless void. Remembrance is the key before you are destroyed. And I'm thankful of you, and I'm happy you've come to visit me once again.
With all immortality, I love you.
Author's note: This piece was inspired by article #11524.
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