ALL THE COLORS HERE
and the darkness
steals all the colors here,
it lays a blanket
as a burden,
as a pall,
as a shroud
to smother gain
and wipe out growth
no matter what
we craft of light,
nothing is enough
to force the shadow back;
every corner,
every street,
is befogged now,
tainted by the shade
whenever we have hoped
we have been shattered,
whenever we have cared
we've been undone,
whatever we have wished
has been denied us,
whatever we have made
has been destroyed
nothing remains of dreams
but bitter fragments,
mocking reminders
of who we were,
and what we had,
and how we thought
the future would unfold;
so pitiful in recall
darkness forms a gravity
and drags down in its wake
all things of life,
all days and joys,
now pointless, deep in loss
as we ache for a releasing
to tear away this madness
and be one with the light
- Brendan Tripp
10/03/2002
Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp