The piercing morning sun
Breaks the wall of ebony shades
Built by nocturnal reflections
Of the unquiet mind
The lips are smiling
The eyes are shining
The body is on go
But what about the soul?
Even the most piercing of all suns,
With all its parachuted colors,
The greenest grass of the first day of spring
Cannot bring back the colors of an aging soul
The grey that reigns once
Gray is irreversible
Just like gravity
Can you force life on that which is long dead?
Bourgeois Dreams - by Jennifer S. Chesler - Here's Bourgeois Dreams by the fiancée, Jennifer S. Chesler (link to original post). The week was interminable and my loathing of it long. I struggled thro...
2 days ago