The clouds are tipped fiery orange. They're strewn across the sky like paint strokes of cotton candy. Sunsets are very beautiful-just so orange and pink and final. The last waves of sunlight cuts through like jagged knives. One last defiant burst of light. Dark wisps of cloud scatter like ashes thrown out after a fire. The fire is still burning, though. It hasn't died. Not yet. But Time will eventually leave dust on the flames and rust the wood.
Everything has to end sometime. Because tick tock, goes the clock. Even for the Doctor.