Blind Ambition

I dwell in somber grays hovering between black and deepest blue amid seas of troubled waves endlessly cascading before my eyes while silent willow trees sadly drape themselves as if in mourning and yet I seek not the yellow of sunshine nor the pink of roses ask not for calm breezes to caress my skin nor embrace my heart and my hands will always reach to comfort willow trees with acceptance of their grieving for my eyes constantly crave the myriad of imperfections of life's truest beauty and I will not gaze upon the superficial and deem it anything more than blind ambition...