On a day such as this,
I return from my tiring work.
On a day such as this,
I return to this dull world.

I hear it once more--
The droning, and the grayness it explores.

I feel it coming--
The humming, and the slight drumming...

The thinning beats are composed of children's pitter-patter,
And sullen ***** dish clatter.
The tuneless melody speaks of pointless meanings,
And empty greetings.

I hear it once more--
The droning, and the grayness it explores.

I feel it coming--
The humming, and the slight drumming...

I hear it one more time--
Or so I think,
For the part of me that understands
Has already died.

things around here have become somberly dull since you left. almost as if each day i wake i notice the colors around me are drained a bit more than the day before.

and despite me knowing that someday all hues shall return, when we once again collide like the supernovas we are...i can’t help but feel that for now life has lost all color.

W. Be

Someday, my darling, I will bloom a ravishing bloom. Butterflies shall hold astound as my lavish colors wander dull skies. Fireflies will stand in awe as my luster illuminates the nights. Bees shall not discern me beside the rest of the blossom. I will bloom heavenly.