We die with our Sun

In the dark

of the dying star,

our life may end,

bringing no misery,

just the silence
of happening

and the noise
of the unseen.

Perhaps, it'll be fit

if our journey ends thus,

with the wheel rolling,

and at the end
of our life,

nothingness realised

to complete
our experience.

In the dimming din

of the setting sun,

walks back to the house

our hero, thinking of home.