A new day invariably brings another night
Doesnt it?
I want to perceive only the light
But the dark never ends completely
Why dont these blues fade away?
The shades of a dark hue trimmed with them
Like the silken black hair on an age old image
Furtively edging its way down a back
Neither fade, not the lubricate nor the dark
Each stay prominent as essential parts
To their own, the painting and life
Both parts of which cant be ignored
The strokes of the creator, gentle or harsh
Never depict what lies beyond
Its upon the eyes of the observer to derive
The true implication hidden deeper within
