chiyonotomo
August 11th, 2003, 02:07 AM
Her mind is filled with a sense of fatigue
Inside her swims an expanse of chaos
pandemonium
Colours flying; resting for only a moment
A blur of streaks of brilliance
Thoughts run through her fingertips like an ocean spray
Slight yet contemplative
Deep but thoughtless
She can't see the light through her window
For her windows are black
So she falls into an everlasting crevice
A fissure filled with stars
She floats among the celestial sea
She slips away from herself and back again
Simply complex and specifically abstract, yet abstract alone
She begins to make new windows
Coloured ones: stained glass
A thought in purple, a dream in green
A hope in yellow, a fear in red
And love in a deep, dark blue
What she says in red contradicts what she expresses in blue
What she thinks in green is pure before she thinks it twice
Her yellow hopes are mixed in between
And all the windows are in one collection
One on top of the other
No one seems to notice the separate colours
No one takes the time to see just the blue
Or perhaps listen to the thoughts in green
They look through them all at once
It's just brown, a mix of tempestuous brown
What she needs is a gentle hand
To remove the blue window from the mass
Caress it softly and smile upon its own simple elegance
And not compare it to the other colours
And instead of laying the glass pieces
On top of one another
As does the rest of the world
Lay them side by side
And smile at each one alike
To help her begin to understand
Her kaleidoscope of emotions
And help her place the stained glass windows
So the light can shine through them all
Inside her swims an expanse of chaos
pandemonium
Colours flying; resting for only a moment
A blur of streaks of brilliance
Thoughts run through her fingertips like an ocean spray
Slight yet contemplative
Deep but thoughtless
She can't see the light through her window
For her windows are black
So she falls into an everlasting crevice
A fissure filled with stars
She floats among the celestial sea
She slips away from herself and back again
Simply complex and specifically abstract, yet abstract alone
She begins to make new windows
Coloured ones: stained glass
A thought in purple, a dream in green
A hope in yellow, a fear in red
And love in a deep, dark blue
What she says in red contradicts what she expresses in blue
What she thinks in green is pure before she thinks it twice
Her yellow hopes are mixed in between
And all the windows are in one collection
One on top of the other
No one seems to notice the separate colours
No one takes the time to see just the blue
Or perhaps listen to the thoughts in green
They look through them all at once
It's just brown, a mix of tempestuous brown
What she needs is a gentle hand
To remove the blue window from the mass
Caress it softly and smile upon its own simple elegance
And not compare it to the other colours
And instead of laying the glass pieces
On top of one another
As does the rest of the world
Lay them side by side
And smile at each one alike
To help her begin to understand
Her kaleidoscope of emotions
And help her place the stained glass windows
So the light can shine through them all