A conversation of sorts

[William Sawyer]

At the brink of dawn when the sun is gone
as far as the eye can see
A wall of grey
Like every other day
Crept towards the Golden City

Its monstrous limbs kiss the Horizon
as it slowly creeps in
Off the west of the setting moon
and deep dark ocean

The city's broad Gate of Gold
opens it creeks and cracks
And with a whisper it kindly greets
I've been waiting for you to come back

And while the wall floats through the gate
It whispers a farewell back
I'll see you soon for when the moon happily rules the sky
That is when i your friend can only pass you by
For when the sun rises up and rules the sky of day
That is when i your friend will die and fade away

So goodbye I say the wall of grey
I fear I must move on
But i'll see you soon on another day
when the sun is gone

And as clouds descend and touch the earth
As far as the eye can see
A wall of grey like evey other day
Engulfs the Golden City

[stephofthenight]

I like this but what if you phrased the start more of a

At the brisk of dawn
When the sun is gone
...

To increase the energy in your poem as it winds lower and lower as you go. kind of the top of the hill to the bottom sort of thing. but lovely words put to gether very well.