Grey

Purity they call it.

White as snow:

Frozen, cold and lifeless.

 

It was easy in the dark,

Where I couldn’t see your eyes,

Black as burnt coal.

 

The rain outside was white noise;

Cleansing, pure noise.

But we didn’t listen.

 

We played a song,

Smooth warm voice, black metal strings,

Drum that matched my pulse.

 

How I trembled,

A rush of torrid blood,

Stirred my pale white flesh.

 

  Nothing then

Was right or wrong,

Only shades of grey.

 

Reviews

[Jonathan]

Very nicely put I actually enjoy your style of
Writing very subtle like, but very nice I always
Like reading your work.