Neither Vice Nor Virtue

The setting sun gives way
for the vices of human spirit,
black as the night, to
thrive in the darkness,
likewise,
the exhausted sighs of a moon setting off
to rest bring rise to the virtues
of life that shimmer in the dawn.

Vices and virtues,
a chessboard colored black and white
with kings and queens and pawns
that change faces,
change color often,
exhaust me through
my own efforts to discern
exactly which color they are.

Yet here I am,
neither a creature of vice nor virtue
that feels the world in emphasized colors,
glimmering as if through the lens
of a kaleidoscope shifting colors,
from the dull blue of grief on a rainy
funeral day to the neon rainbows of bliss
in the laughter of children first discovering love.

Alas�" my emotions ravage as vibrant, glowing colors
that soar across the horizon of worlds
painted only in black and white,
‘tis no wonder why I find the setting sun
tragic as I try to adorn the world with tears
and blood, desperately begging the seconds

to speed on by and guide me to the one
destined to paint me onto a mural.

Author's Note

Photo courtesy of cjbrownie of Deviant Art.

Reviews

[melissa]

This is amazing poem keep up the great work and keep sending me more to read i love reading them

[Tai Ryens]

You're too kind, aha, thank you.

[melissa]

You're welcome