Kyle's p.o.v

Walking toward and away from the dying sun,

we are born to die in the end. You are everywhere,

but still remain a distant thought. Walking

toward and away from the dying sun, the

golden days of our youth are surely

fleeting. The night steals our

substance, but not our essence.

I am torn between taking flight or helping you

to embrace the light. God, Jesus, and

the angels in Heaven beckon you to come home.

Walking toward and away from the dying sun,

you find eternal rest for your soul at last.