deepundergroundpoetry.com
State of Grey
Chaos. Order. Creep.
There are many, so many
worlds within ours, we just don't
see.
We refuse to see; what our world
consists of is now grey and blue
and grey and blue
and me and you
are nothing, nothing, aye, but plaster
statues brought to life.
And all this, all this, aye, is void of
hate and death and strife.
'Cause nothing, nothing dies if only
it did not have life.
And no-one, no-one loves if no-one
ever knew of strife.
Drizzles. Hailstorms. Weep.
There are many, so many
differences in these realms, I cannot
bear.
I long to return; my world was once
alive; with trees and rain
and trees and rain.
Now me and pain
are close; so very close, and only
I do not know why.
It hurts; it hurts so much, and here's
a spider passing by.
'Cause trees and rain are gone, and I
just cannot figure why.
And I am just a speck and I think
I am passing by.
Conscience. Cosmos. Sleep.
There are few, so few
Of us who keep a fire within our
hearts.
I fear for us all, because this fire is
Soul; it burns and gleams,
and burns and gleams.
Now me and dreams
are two things put together for
effort made in vain
to save us from this gray decay
and ashen concrete rain.
But this I know, and this I will
abandon-- all in vain.
But here's a girl who loved and lived
her life within the Rain.
And now the girl who loved and lived
will vanish with the Rain.
There are many, so many
worlds within ours, we just don't
see.
We refuse to see; what our world
consists of is now grey and blue
and grey and blue
and me and you
are nothing, nothing, aye, but plaster
statues brought to life.
And all this, all this, aye, is void of
hate and death and strife.
'Cause nothing, nothing dies if only
it did not have life.
And no-one, no-one loves if no-one
ever knew of strife.
Drizzles. Hailstorms. Weep.
There are many, so many
differences in these realms, I cannot
bear.
I long to return; my world was once
alive; with trees and rain
and trees and rain.
Now me and pain
are close; so very close, and only
I do not know why.
It hurts; it hurts so much, and here's
a spider passing by.
'Cause trees and rain are gone, and I
just cannot figure why.
And I am just a speck and I think
I am passing by.
Conscience. Cosmos. Sleep.
There are few, so few
Of us who keep a fire within our
hearts.
I fear for us all, because this fire is
Soul; it burns and gleams,
and burns and gleams.
Now me and dreams
are two things put together for
effort made in vain
to save us from this gray decay
and ashen concrete rain.
But this I know, and this I will
abandon-- all in vain.
But here's a girl who loved and lived
her life within the Rain.
And now the girl who loved and lived
will vanish with the Rain.
Published 12th Aug 2014
| Edited 13th Aug 2014
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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13th Aug 2014 12:40pm
13th Aug 2014 2:26pm
