The sun sets at the edge of the ocean,
But still, the water did not turn to steam,
Nor the sun's heat was lost in commotion,
Harmony of opposites, it would seem.
However "seems" it is, indeed, it is,
For such an edge, indeed, does not exist,
The perfect harmony we see in front,
Is as ephemeral as that moment.
For eons, it was a picture of love,
The tryst of the hot yang and the cold yin,
Mayhaps, people understood and behove,
That love was just a sunset, from within.
