The hollow world I live in's black and white.
Forget that. Everything is tones of grey,
From dandelions to a starry night,
Thalassic waves, as they roll from the bay.
I long for vibrant yellow, of the sol,
A legendary dye, it exists not,
Though not unlike the others: mythical.
And yet they rest, inside my mind, unwrought.
I long to see colours I never saw,
But if I act, but if I see this gold,
Then others bombard, 'til palinoia
Is all I am, though not so numbly cold.
I safely hide from lessons not I'll learn.
Cachéd I stay, though for gold I yearn.
eρεβος (erebos)- of darkness
i saw darkness pass over his eyes. that blank stare that was lifeless and cold.
the darkness is a static constant in this ancient story of ours. to which we all submit. to which, even the ancients, especially the ancients, speak of. those who pass hardly ever return. those who return are never forgotten.
what is it? what is it that looms over our fates and darkens our doorways?
it is death, my love. erebus, my darling.