Feel the Gray

If you can’t see it, you can smell  
If it doesn’t work, then touch it as well  
If fingertips are numb, then take a taste  
If none of those, listen to the echoes of sound  
 
You can smell it through the stillness  
Drawing you towards the ominous source  
During gloomy days, lingering in the cold air  
Fog filling your nostrils, with each respire  
 
You can touch it, your fingers softly gliding  
Over the edges of the dark and light converging  
Yet they never unite, you stand in between, tracing  
The silver line, finding balance in a delicate margin  
 
You can taste its shades in clouds cotton-shaped  
The flavor leaves ashes of bittersweet aftertaste  
It can be a chill metallic coating your tongue  
And a warm haze hollowing your insides  
 
You can hear it when you’re sitting together  
With loneliness, whispering in your ears  
Embracing you in quietude and solace  
Its hug is your only comfort in the silence  
 
All you need is one sensitive sense  
To feel the gray, its vast and placid existence