It is grey.
For miles and miles,
we see nothing but grey.

Grey is the color of the sky.
Grey is the color clouding everyone’s minds.
Grey be the condition of everyone’s hearts.

The months may come and go,
and people look in vain for the end of grey,
but still it reigns supreme in the heavens.

Bleak and desolate,
it stays on,
for months and months to come.

But what it this?
A patch of blue?
Could it be possible?

Hope screams for release,
in the hearts and souls of thousands,
and in some it succeeds.

But most are wary.
The grey has reigned for so long,
that blue seems but a distant dream.

And the patch widens,
‘til it covers all,
and the sun returns to the heavens.

Hope is reinstated.
Winter is gone,
and spring runs rampant.