Grey

So much this passion: it moves the soul; and so much this

Love: it turns the soul; and I trespass, a woman’s soul; and

I paint hurt, a spirit woe; and such the chi, a featured wave;

And once love, a vision built; and she cries pain, a secret

Storm; and she cries woe, a secret love; and we die soft, a

Violin; and we cringe grey, a mind of ghosts; and love so

Far, a jasmine rose; and teal-ic dye, a diamond rose; and

Biblic sin, a demon’s burn; and portrait grey, a love so far;

And we mold prayer, a solemn plea; and we die green, a

Selfish slant; and dreams of fey, a mystic love; and jasper

Death, a silent sting; and what to give, the chains of love;

And what to plead, the hands of fate; and purple rain, a torn

Ideal; and thus the pain, a mythic grey; and last to speak,

The deepest hurt; and last to love, the woes of time.