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.
