hymn of the colourblind
moving into my eyes,night after night just like fireflies come memories of yore; the flow of water over weary worn rocks, the unceasing noise of a distant calm the momentary laugh/grimace of a tired soul all come back to me in moments of solitude. the cold of the water penetrating with alacrity into some endless hole of my deep dark heart the evening is an interesting phenomena, more like twilight - neither black nor white ,but grey grey like the cast rainy sky ,withholding some facts but never telling a lie; grey like the innards of an ocean deep; grey like the desires in every heart's keep. as the buds blossom ,so does the eye moving on from distinct lines to a blurry sigh still,that day i learnt of life some happy moments with friends of strife. those silent ones spoke through their eyes, they said this is not all truth and lies - for what are black and white if not extremes of grey!!!!!