Yellow

The garden flowers were hiding in the shadows of the night.
A fruit fly lay there warming,
in preparation for his flight.
The breeze brings smells of nectar,
and the singing of a bird.
By the time that yellow rolled around
I was nowhere to be heard.
I was off on some mad brilliance,
nourishing the world.
My blood was up for grabs that night,
my soul was all unfurled.