Whispering about me, the wind grows feirce,
Leaves rustle, branches creek,
Yet neither bother my body.

The cold, it sets in,
Droning out my senses,
Making me numb.

Staring out at the horizon,
I wait,
Until the time is right.

The tree in the distance,
Sways back and forth to an unknown beat,
As leaves scatter about behind me.

Taking a step forward,
Feeling the leaves swirl around my feet,
I know that it is almost time.

Edging closer and closer,
Seeing the horizon become my vantage,
It seemed that it was all for this.

I waited and watched,
With onyx eyes about,
The wind always scraping my clothes.

The sun, it sinks down,
Down past the hills to the West,
Resting for one more night.

The beauty in front of me,
It seems majestic in a way,
As if I was just a lowly peasant.

Slipping a hand into my pack,
Taking out one small knife,
I chuckle again at the sight.

Within two fingers,
It shoots towards the setting sun,
Trying to silence it forever.

Yet as the knife passes right by,
The colors increase,
They form shapes.

Almost as if it was to be,
My knife halts in the air for a few moments,
As the colors align just right.

And as if it was to be,
I see the sky finally,
As it stares back.

As if it was to be,
Those colors seem to magnify,
As I see my own eye in front of me.

It seemed the twilight laughed back at me,
Laughed at the mallice of my ways,
Yet I laughed back.

Nothing mattered for me at that moment,
Not even the eye staring back at me,
Turning about to walk away, I smirk.

"Never will you catch me, Twilight,
For you're forever entombed,
To be just an eye in the sky."