The Scrambled Philosophies That I Call Thoughts

Orange Enchanted

A sunset
The resemblance comes in waves
Illusion inseparable from reality
Orange enchanted, like every other
Yet, unique somehow
Tenuous, yet bold
Only enough to hold
The nostalgia induced portrayals
That I now behold
The hue deceptive
Radiant orange, but demolished by its own evanescence
Lovely, yet fleeting
I recall, early in my years
Weep, smile, and laugh
Ceased, knowing only half
Of the twilight was nostalgia inducing
And the remainder only served
In resurrecting silent screams
That pierced the screaming silence
Only then, of the schism in your heart
Did I become aware
Though clear and bright,
Innocent as they may seem,
Those eyes, secrets they held
Clouded, hazy with the illusion
That you provided, I remember
And as reality flooded in,
Into those depths I did find myself peering
As did repeat, in a memory so distant,
Another life, it did seem
Similar, though not scarcely the depth of orange
Once gold, now withered
Not even plastic, but paper in strength
Did you find that façade now
Illusion finally shattered,
The unlikely falsehood of this current moment,
I did behold
Though now,
Immensely distanced from our past contemplations
The looks of eyes,
The passion behind comments,
The feelings behind every moment
Shall never cease
To be orange enchanted