199. July 18th
The sun sets behind the wispy cloud above,
As its light wanes, few shafts can slice through
The thick sheet of darkening cloud,
Which blocks out light for all.
The day is ending and the night is coming,
They swap places instantaneously.
The fragile light left behind
Is swallowed up by overwhelming darkness.
One by one the stars appear,
Every second the multiply.
Yet still their light here on earth,
Cannot match that of our own sun.
Before morning comes the stars must flee,
And find their resting place.
For though down here we are waking
The nocturnal starts will sleep.