All that was left were the colors and hues
After death or divorce
Or more mundane, change of residence
Whatever, the flowers do bloom always in their season
The colors of the walls
Though they can be torn down
I saw them, earth tones, brown and a summer oak beige
Reminding me of warm days under India green and azure;
After everything's gone and the ghosts of stars simmer like dying coals, no eyes left to see; even if the scientist says its just an illusion of light
Like faith i believe, i see and i remember
Apr 14, 2016
Apr 14, 2016 at 3:50 PM UTC
All that was left were the colors and hues
After death or divorce
Or more mundane, change of residence
Whatever, the flowers do bloom always in their season
The colors of the walls
Though they can be torn down
I saw them, earth tones, brown and a summer oak beige
Reminding me of warm days under India green and azure;
After everything's gone and the ghosts of stars simmer like dying coals, no eyes left to see; even if the scientist says its just an illusion of light
Like faith i believe, i see and i remember
