The sunset at the edge of the world

I stood up high on a mountainside, among the rich and famous and looked out towards the waters that flow off the ends of the earth. My eyes drawn by a running star whose jet-stream pulls the horizon further east casting off waves of burnt clouds. At it's outer edges the sky is dark like charcoal with hints of steel blue ebbing towards an off-peach orange that caresses and cuddles with the dancing yellow-neon orange, at the center a blood red fluff beats unselfconsciously , putting to shame the reddest of roses. The sun dives off the edge into the endless universe, and the Sky takes it's time to fade to black, none rush it.