Dusk descends,
A borderless, inexplicit
Harbinger of night,
Vague, tenebrous,
Blurring edges,
Between departing light
And distorting shadows,
Embracing darkness,
Cryptic, enigmatic.
She stands on the cusp,
Indeterminate, ill-defined,
A bridge,
An attempt to unite,
To transcend the partite
Elements
Of a creation,
Perfectly divided
Against itself.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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