Beautiful Ending OR, End of The Beautiful?

When the sun sinks slowly behind the hills,

carrying all the warmth and colors it gathered throughout the day,

 I stand watching the sky change its face,

wondering what this gentle fade is truly trying to say,

if the quiet fall of light teaches us something hidden, something old,

or reflects just how the warmest lights can also turn cold,

The evening spreads itself across rooftops quietly, like a secret,

The world feels fragile, as if every moment is preparing to rest,

and I can’t tell if night opens a door or draws a line,

as shadows stretch long and the last shapes get blur by its design,

Life slows at its edges, as voices fade when echoes are gone,

each heartbeat, a step closer to silence and each memory trying to stay on,

and I wonder if the dimming of a life is loss or release,

a breaking apart or it is just settling into peace,

When someone leaves, the air feels heavy with all the words that couldn’t stay,

and time becomes gentle reminding us of things we rarely say,

I’m left unsure if absence is meant to be a bruise or to heal,

or if endings teach us the truths, we are afraid to feel,

But then dawn returns with slow colors,

lifting the night up from the world, like a veil,

and teach us even endings have their own quiet trail,

and I’m caught between the dark and the light,

unsure if endings belong to day or to the night,

So, I ask myself, holding all I’ve seen and all I must carry

when something fades, does its beauty remain, or does it just slip away?

Is it the world closing softly or opening slowly above?

Is the last glow a farewell, or another shape of love?

So, when the final light falls and the final breath is through,

Is it a beautiful ending, or the end of the beautiful, we walk into?

--Smarika Pandey

image from :here;