Petty Fights.

The Sun and Rain have a squall,
As to who conquers the evening.
And so goes the dance,
As orange turns to grey,
Soon,the paint starts to take over,
Mixing,
Matching,
Molesting,
So there be no end and no beginning.
When the wisps of clouds come to a standstill,
the pastels will know,
and so will the styles,
that the outcome is one,
when the day sets to sail.
Where it begins and where it ends,
the Rain knows to ignore the sighs
...for come evening,the Sun must set.