I was a blind man, foreigner to light,
Whose days were draped in black, immortal night;
Trapped helplessly alone in the dark void,
Dull as Death, I never lived, never joyed.
But then your soft, enchanting voice I heard,
And Color quickly blossomed from your word,
Painting roses red and deep oceans blue:
Clear as pure air, I see because of you.
And upon seeing your bright, hazel eyes,
Streaks of vivid color burst from the skies,
Flaring fuchsia, emerald, indigo:
Swift as wind, I entered sweet vertigo.
As we met, the colors grew more intense;
Light swelled in my heart: a crystalline lens.
Gone am I from the dark void I once knew;
Know that I live, I see to witness you.
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 7:54 AM UTC
I was a blind man, foreigner to light,
Whose days were draped in black, immortal night;
Trapped helplessly alone in the dark void,
Dull as Death, I never lived, never joyed.
But then your soft, enchanting voice I heard,
And Color quickly blossomed from your word,
Painting roses red and deep oceans blue:
Clear as pure air, I see because of you.
And upon seeing your bright, hazel eyes,
Streaks of vivid color burst from the skies,
Flaring fuchsia, emerald, indigo:
Swift as wind, I entered sweet vertigo.
As we met, the colors grew more intense;
Light swelled in my heart: a crystalline lens.
Gone am I from the dark void I once knew;
Know that I live, I see to witness you.
