In fields of gold, the sun begins to set,
Casting its warm glow on the meadow's embrace,
Day surrenders to night, with no regret,
As stars emerge, painting the sky with grace.
A symphony of crickets, in soft refrain,
Serenades the night, with their sweet melody,
The moon ascends, a beacon to remain,
Guiding lost souls towards serenity.
With each passing hour, darkness deepens its hold,
Yet within shadow's grasp, beauty can be found,
For in the night, secrets and wonders unfold,
As silent dreams take flight, without a sound.
So let us not fear the twilight's gentle call,
For in darkness, there lies a beauty for all.