Look close enough and you can see
there are traces of red still underneath
Past colors that were once vibrant,
but have almost faded to nonexistence.
I had it once—love—and thought it'd stay
Until blues came and shaped me to what I remain
See, she left like a charcoal train leaves an empty station:
maybe she'll be back, but nothing is certain.
But I always knew that the sun couldn't last
and colors, like our fire that came before, faded into the past.
A cloud grew dreary inside my thunderous throat
blocking remnants of light, releasing nothing but smoke.
That cloud poured doubt inside me, covering my heart with ash,
submerging it with darkness, like rust on unused tracks.
I've stayed that way: gray and washed out,
like paint soaked in water, losing its clout.
My heart knows better and tries flapping its wings,
forcing red to come through like light between trees.
After a thousand days a hint of yellow emerged
and the muck is fading—a monochromatic purge.
Now there is royal, cyan, magenta, and amber consuming my fate.
I'll be old colors with new names but less vibrant shades.