While the day fades,
Into the realm of the black,
To the darkness on the brink,
The setting sun glooming,
I. Sit. Still.
Without a blink,
Nor contemplating.
In the realm of a grey dawn,
A partial joy, not a full white.
A part dehaze, not quite black.
The day recess,
With no shines,
Nor somberness.
Unabridged Manuscripts 
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