18:50

6 PM is the dying hour of the sun.
He dimmed the sparks of his warmth to glow the moon.
6 PM is the skipping beat of the natural pulse.
They stop to burn for a while, and let the carbon flees the empty air.
6 PM is the endless talk, and the falling rain.
Hear me sighing in the arms of the dusk.
6 PM is not for the wandering souls.
They mourn their fate under the joyful hymn of the angels.