Gain he stole but pain is fading,
I'll give forgiveness in another morrow
The pathos now still boldly bidding
But the bellow to forgive, I feel below
Morrow came with a twisted blend
The eye of the cloud is painted red
My epistle to forgive I can't heaven send
My offender is now yonder led
Tomorrow here is not eternity
Not all will wear the canescent hair
Now do what you can for paternity and divinity
Tomorrow you may not breathe our air
Ashen, does the ending of a day time faint;
Wallow in self-pity – do hoary shadows loom
Pastel shades over silver ridges all as one constraint
Become a neutral dark with overtones for doom.
Drab of any choice which shall end with our demise
Ancient relics all of us, grisaille where softly knit,
A summary of canescent streaks to distant skies
Translucent does the metaphor obscure to dimly lit.
Bleak, the murky views of vapours tread our trail
Towards the deep sunk crevice known to many;
As suffering slates with charcoal etch the tale
Regretful misdemeanours, until there isn't any.
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