There's black, there's white,
There's wrong, there's right,
There's dark, then there's light,
There's depth, and there's height.
The line between them all is Grey.
Believe it if you may,
But the emotionless and the void,
The vaccuum where no one stays
Is the very definition
Of the broad spectrum called 'Grey'.
Unlike the Yin and Yang,
The pefrect balance, oh so right,
Grey is the twilight
Between the change of day and night.
A mind filled with thoughts,
With worries and joy,
Is nothing like Grey,
Only a dead brain is,
Where all the memories lie destroyed.
Neither love nor hate
Can be compared to Grey,
It is the state of a being before birth and after death,
It is where things come from and where they go,
The colour of ashes, smoke, and one's soul,
Neither evil, nor good; only empty, you know.
It is when a person is neither ashamed, nor bestowed,
Its is neither a friend, nor a foe,
It is neither a desert, nor the rivers that flow,
It is neither a dove, nor a crow.
'Grey' is inert.
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(A/N: ELLO! :) I hope you cherished this as much as I did writing it!
Do leave a vote and comment to let me know that y'all like it and want me to continue. Lots of Love. XOXO)
YOU ARE READING
•Silent Screams•
PoetryWords that never left the lips, Phrases unheard by any soul but mine, Thoughts that lie on the ocean bed like sunken ships, Voices present nowhere but this strange mind. I scream internally, confessing my deeds, And none but my demons listen, Yet, o...
