He grew up as the sunset became an illusion
By the same coast that had nurtured it forever;
The water still crimson yellow, sand as white
As the people enjoying the evergreen tides,
Everything was the same, as a frozen frame
Except that the Sun wasn't magic anymore -
Riding the curves of a fateful Sunset
The sour truth had dawned on the day.
He sat by the shore, lost in its silver ripples
Of what lay ahead in a dark, descending night
With punctured vision he gazed up at the stars
Cold sand reminded him of the one pending ride.
Opposite winds, as usual, and wheels in motion
Armed with the piercing beacon of conviction
He rode towards the Sun, into the perfect Night
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