A sunset is a beautiful thing to watch, as the colours of the sky brighten and change, and slowly dim as the sun drops below the horizon.  Clouds add an extra palette at dusk, reflecting and emphasizing the shades of pink, purple, orange and red.

A rare sight I suppose though is a perfectly timed thunderstorm at dusk.  A storm that rolls in over the western horizon, clearing the horizon line as the sun reaches it.  The storm rages as night pushes in from the east and the sun brightens the image from the west.

It is a spectacular sight, one that brings to mind ideas of the battle between the light and the dark.  A constant fight for control of the skies.

The sun burns bright, fending off the dark,

But the night pushes back, its resistance is stark.

Light seems to be fading as the dark grows;

The black clouds push in as the sun lows.

In a burst of light, the sunset fights back,

Pushing again at the inevitable black.

Its colours light up the evening sky,

Then lightning cracks from somewhere nearby.

The struggle is fierce for control of the heavens.

Each side desperate, in fear of who wins.

Stubbornly, neither willingly gives up the fight,

Both wrestle with each other to take the day or night.

These two worlds collide, dusk and dawn every day.

Resisting the hold of the other in every way.

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