1:11 AM

At chopsticks minus one:
There is nothing.
Volumeless sound
Unspeakable verses

I start to think
That I understand

These are the notions
the musings I pursue
as I flick somethings
from my bed sheets

Fleeting thoughts
of slaying beasties
slip through my fingers
where the controls
sat earlier.

I fall back onto
pillows of endless dreams.
Seeking sunlight on days
where only the lifeless
clouds of grey seem to float,
giving nothing but that melancholy
I need.

and

I want.

I apologize to you
if I control the weather.

Gloomy uninteresting skies
are all I predict.
Dull
Matte
Boring
and grey.

But
So is life.
You’ve been there, I know you have.

Life doesn’t exist without the
days filled with
grey.

That grey
The one that pervades the soul.

The grey of one who has lost.
The grey of one without
Grey.
Only grey.