In the Pink of Dusk
She stood there watching the sky turn pink,
Whether it was rage or diffidence she was yet to decide.
A faint star in the far horizon showed up like a wink
and a smile to let the maladies hide.
Words crowded in her head like people in a busy lane,
No matter how much she tried, she failed to filter a few.
Avoiding even the slightest thought insane,
the nomad stood still without a clue.
They told her "believe in the process!"
But the process had alternate possibilities.
A familiar felony of the wretched cupids,
Twisted in fate's conspiracies.
What was broken could never be mended,
No magical stardust came to the rescue.
Shattered beyond reason or apology,
she gave up trying to stick or sew.
The white winged side kick had taken a bullet to the head,
The red tailed genius sighed, exhausted,
No more argument on the heart's destiny..
It was her favorite dream screwed.
Her feet sank in the wet sand, her hair danced in the wind,
She had found peace in the chaos, waiting for the end.

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