Sorrow has always captured my attention,
Tradegy framed in a single face,
A tear, all memories refracted from a single point.
Depression is always elegance in action,
Movement of one stage of a persons true grey,
To the next lightest color.
Color, not shade.
For we can all learn to interpret the grey.
But when that persons face brightens?
Their light is a stark display,
Deep indigo dances with flaming scarlet,
True cobalt blue swims alongside sky blue, yellow dawns a new era of verdant green.
All because of one small tear-shaped prism of refraction.
All shades of joy, frenzies of different shades dancing in one picture.
Shades, because all we knew was grey.
But joy... subsides. We all know this true, fortunately.
Without this, we would never see the beauty of grey.
That which is true rock bottom, Untainted by the scarlet of anger, the yellow of joy.
No, the pure single eloquence of sorrow.