Dissipated dissolution
March of many colors
Turn it down to you
To blue
I hate to watch you walk away
To black
As though that's all that I can do
Demurred
Devolution
The cranes swing wide
The tillers in the field
Cut down the stocks
Separate all wheat
From chaff
Month of many colors
Red for all the blood I bleed
My fingers reaching still
And white
And how my eyes just open
And blue
Form the iris growing slowly
Dissonant
Delicate
The color is only empty
As far as I can see
All revolution
And the falling of the sun
The night
Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 2:10 AM UTC
Dissipated dissolution
March of many colors
Turn it down to you
To blue
I hate to watch you walk away
To black
As though that's all that I can do
Demurred
Devolution
The cranes swing wide
The tillers in the field
Cut down the stocks
Separate all wheat
From chaff
Month of many colors
Red for all the blood I bleed
My fingers reaching still
And white
And how my eyes just open
And blue
Form the iris growing slowly
Dissonant
Delicate
The color is only empty
As far as I can see
All revolution
And the falling of the sun
The night
