What is death, but a life’s futility?
Futility of truth beyond the lie.

The relief of spring’s first golden sorrow
beats down on my brow rousing my heart’s warmth
enlightening love by way of what’s lost.

He, whose glistening, shimmering glimmers
of hope seem to stutter on to no end,
Waits for for any such little late effort
in such slender threads to deign a blessing.
A deal only to pass after the part
on ones part comes to pass.

Although buoyancy of hope
Ebbing away,
Seems to foretell of total dissipation,
Icicles lit by the blue moon
Nonchalantly morph into stalagmites
Soaked in the light more golden than the sun’s.

Shadows of hope hang behind slender threads
That the equation can be crafted;
Pulling strings to put in our place
contributions mirroring our own.

A mind reflecting virtues past
Not fit for now where they won’t last
To last assumes existence is
He who assumes negates all this:

Venerate opinions influenced by,
A great weight of truth.
Caution of these ideas of mine,
Venerated by youth.

Sorrow for the world that could have been.
Breathlessness of hope that it may come again.
The second time round we’ll know what not to do.
All I hope is you will be there too.

White; the enemy of individuality.
Sensitive to stain;
So glares any impurity.
The cause of light’s disdain.

A mount of perfection,
For all the unwanted,
Baring intolerable rejection;
Their impurities are vaunted.

Grey; the melancholy shade.
Permanently on the fence.
Sullenness being made.
Prosaicness from whence.

Agnosticism of colour.
No conviction for what it reflects.
With a deficit of vigour.
The reflection of all that detracts.

Black; the absorption of all,
The greed of light.
An entire life’s pall.
The enemy of white.

The face of the deep
The end of all things.
Light’s filcher to reap,
Before any beginnings.

My Pen nonchalantly flows its ink,
Over the empty lines; thirsty.
Thirsty for epigrammatic language.
The spoken line’s elisions and falsifications,
Predispose propensities,
And mutate the prevailing attitude,
Towards us, our future,
Not others or theirs.