The morning forlorn
After stormiest grays
By the rooftop is borne
The residual rains
A mellifluous sound
Pitter-patter atop
The tin ticking in rhythm
To my alarm clock
To be tranquilly roused
From intermittent slumber
Dispelling my scatter-brain dreams
As the thunder
Recedes from the night before's
Boisterous bellows,
Awakes to the break of day's
Mellowest yellows
And shades of the silhouette trees
At high noon
Complimenting the hues
Of my colorless blues
But contrasted against
Scintillating elation
Of past paradise's
Fragmented mentation
Demented dimensions
Of polychromatic
Prismatic
Ecstatic
Sporadic sense
Magic
The tricks that it played
On my mind
Automatically
Made in my image
A timeless depravity
Gravity swept off its feet
With a stroke
Of a heart so replete
With the ones that it broke
And oh how it wrote
Of lament penitence
To dispense with such beauty
I haven't seen since