You Aren't Sure

There on the rock wall
The sun kisses the last time
Then it bows and bids farewell
For the evening to spin her rhyme.
But you hope there'll be a morrow
The transient night will end
The darkness will be a passing sorrow
With the new dawn you will amend.
There on the mountain peaks
The sun clings one last time
Then another world it seeks
Here the evening spins her rhyme.
But you aren't sure there'll be a morrow
And the night that arrives will end
The darkness will be a passing sorrow
Gifting you a day to amend!

poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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