The deeper I go
the darker the day,
blue turns to grey turns to black and
it's hard getting back.
I grab onto daylight which for now is the skylight
and the colour returns to my cheeks,
time speaks quietly to me, inaudibly,
I only see the light.
At the zenith, the nadir is clear to me,
each holds itself to a certainty
an effect which though true gets
lost on me,
I only see the light.
The deeper I sink and
the darker I think, I think
I think myself into a
quandary, in
silence the colours come back to me,
like troops on the long march to victory
and time chatters on quite
incessantly.
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 7:49 AM UTC
The deeper I go
the darker the day,
blue turns to grey turns to black and
it's hard getting back.
I grab onto daylight which for now is the skylight
and the colour returns to my cheeks,
time speaks quietly to me, inaudibly,
I only see the light.
At the zenith, the nadir is clear to me,
each holds itself to a certainty
an effect which though true gets
lost on me,
I only see the light.
The deeper I sink and
the darker I think, I think
I think myself into a
quandary, in
silence the colours come back to me,
like troops on the long march to victory
and time chatters on quite
incessantly.
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