The Last Trace of Gold

As far as my eyes could see,

the shades of purple made my eyes widen.

Deep violet bleeding into mauve

and a colour I could not name,

a faint shade of lavender dissolving into blue,

each shade holding its place

before giving way to the next,

eventually fading into the deepening dusk.

It reminded me of an old photograph,

the edges blurred by the passing years,

not faded, but changed by time,

the colours no longer quite what they were,

yet somehow more beautiful

for having survived it.

I had an elevator with a view,

rising high enough to see the sky,

my feet feeling the gentle pull of the ascent,

but I couldn't see the horizon.

There was only that faint glow

where the light used to be,

a trace of something golden

slowly disappearing from sight.

And I wondered

if the Sun had ever really been there,

or if I was only remembering

the colour it left behind. © 2025 Lyia Meta. All rights reserved.

Image by WiX