The Death Of Dusk

• Pratham Gupta, Grade 8, Cammeraygal high School
• Poetry
• 2016

Excellence Award in the 'Word Zone 2016' competition

My clothes reek of the stale air
The acid-like ground smoulders the flesh off the bottom of my feet,
The detritus around me like the remains of Khmer,
My mouth pickled from my briny tears.
A sudden flashback of my father takes me back,
A memory so vague; like trying to put together shattered china,
His retinas the colour of Adam’s ale,
His hair a reflection of the flow of the local vale.
His arms the only place I wish to be
I covet to be against his coarse skin,
I yearn to feel my heart beat against his,
I wanted my body to melt like snow from the warmth of his ambience
But the sin of reality had shot me too soon
It was only when my legs too frail, had the pain really sparked
For I was soon going into an eternal rest
And the Sun that lay before me was going to set.