In the corner of time, when the yellow, crimson and purple dance in the dying sky, I blink ever so slowly in awe. I have seen many ends, but often the dawn always scares me. Today when the dusk bloomed with all joys of nature, I jumped in the hungry taxi for a flickering ride. I almost forgot but jumped out in the used pavement, and opened the story of others. Then I stalked my way back to what I claim as home. Today, I did not hear my dead moon, as I knocked ever so vexed to arrive. The time must be healing my grief. I have seen many ends, actually mostly in my mind. My moon was certainly my true dusk yet I cannot even mourn properly because their life donot weigh as much as humans. So how dare I wallow?