Black, White and Grey

When the years loose color,

Time, measure null-

Memories, hither,

Sweet still, just dull;

Beckoning yet,

Some only to forget,

Some to remember,

But sentiment runs for cover.

Black; dark and brooding,

Yet, ‘tis somehow, alluring:

Those livid gasps, frightened of feeling,

When lost is love, and existence reeking-

Those jaded nights of insecurity,

When living is akin to pillory,

Those quiet nightmares, silence screaming,

When kisses strike, and mirth is weeping.

Grey; unsure and vague,

Still, ‘tis constant, straight:

Those moments, alone, but calm and shy,

When ambiguity provides the most solace-

Those encounters with faith, void of requisition,

When everything seems out of position,

Those fearless, ageless, tests of endurance,

When potency is no measure and sight is no assistance.

White; pure and whole,

Yet, ‘tis comprised of myriad fragments of every color:

Those specks of frozen time, of bliss, of valor,

When light shone through the densest cloud:

Those leaps of joy, in kind and solid venture,

When every arrow pointed to darkness alone,

Those sways of judgment, falling ultimately to intuition,

When no one believed in those (consuming) throes of passion…

A tale told in grayscale,

A tiny black and white Polaroid:

Of an entire life,

Of validation, of negation;

Discarding the scarlet, cerulean, and emerald,

(The anger, dejection and envy)

A concise, but still precise, version of a story-

Black, White and Grey…