Atavism

we paint a picture with dull colors
choking on the paint fumes
a dream piece turns into an nightmare
the time swings on its pendulum  
the coming of judgement
staring into the light
there was no vision to our sight
A insight,
we choose to live without passion
no tears of joy nor sorrow
unconsciously giving into
the night

Reviews

[wordman]

we have to start somewhere,even sometimes without vision