A rare bit of poetry I scrapped off my head

I don't write poetry often, I never liked writing it in highschool and mainly lived off of short haikus. However walking in the electrical fields near my house after dark was inspirational and it was too good an idea to be stopped by my don't-like-writing-poetry filter.

Do you feel unelectric when twilight doesn’t wave goodbye?

The Black Maple

It’s a feeling to feel unelectric when

The twilight has left the sky, without goodbye

But maybe memory will still be there to console

With nostalgia spooling over the escaping heat

And then maybe wish for what you once saw, to

Shuffling sickly through grey fields of flak noticing

Steel giants holding wires aloft are now

Wire held puppets, greatness gone for the night

Do you feel sad? To be late, for what was never

Promised, except for you, walking among once titans

But everything to be said in your solitude is quiet now

In the fading afterglows, waiting for the stars which  

Is barely heard from what is maybe

The whistling in your head