Our Mind Perceives In Color

Our mind shall perceive in color; not words Like the light of judgment. Our tongue is the destiny of a generation, ignorant of redemption Our blindness is but one man’s minor downfall Our chair, the chair of thousands Our fingers touch the crevices of despair Yet we know not what love is And suicide still distant from our walk. The paint on our wall has been stuck there for days, Melting for weeks. Our ghost holds the answers Of dust-filled passages Our mind shall rip threads from this burning existence And tie them into yours This lamp shines no light on our pillow, If only we could get to sleep when it’s dark Colors we see of this unforeseen enemy Haunting our dreams, transforming nightmare into reality.