Grey is the color of my eyes.
They stare past meadows and glades,
probing the blues and reds of sunset skies
to find black stone, dead and alone
where this vibrant life, may atone
and die.

I tire of these sensational tales;
these tear jerking moments of love and loss.
There are no tears left to pour from this grail
of dead wood. There are no more coins to toss
into this well of souls; tired and alone;
dead and lost.

In that well;
In those eyes;
Grey reigns king over fickle trust.
In this naked temple, on knees so tired.
I pray for an end to love and lust.
In this heart of frozen steel and wire,
I beg you. Let me rust.