Colour is the mover,
The motion and the force,
A swirling revolution,
The energy, the source.
Colour is the changer,
It brings the world alive.
It makes me who and what I am.
I need colour to survive.
Colour is the shaker.
Bringing mountains crashing down,
It finds the strongest places
And shakes up everything around.
Now substitute the word "colour" for the word "love".
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S'up. I'm Overskill, and I write fantasy stories and some very abstract poems. Read some.
Bright things,. Shining,. Beautiful faces. One yours. One mine. Crystal. Rainbow. Beautiful. Shame though. Us not. Combined. Chorus. Dawn verse. Concealed. Universe. Lovers entwined. Sunday. Thinking.
I once held a precious treasure, a fragile beauty in my hands. A prism of reflective pleasure, with gentle radiance it shone. It was formed with compassion, in a furnace fired with love.
*Sorry, it's a little complex and unconventional* An iris, cerulean blue. Rimmed with not-a-clue. A pupil oh-so-black. There's something it does lack. Retina of dreams. This one's not all he seems.
A myriad of colours make up our life; A composite for every emotion. Sombre shades for darker times; Vivacious tones for love and devotion.
Super glue will do When you want to stick things fast But it's semi permanence And not really made to last How about some Special Brew.
Why does the rainbow get so much fuss. It's not like the colours are new. You can find them, after all, In other places too. Red in the flesh of a tomato, Red in the mark of a knife.
(W)e couldn't have been better suited, that was my initial belie(F). (A) mistake in judgment I now truly fee(L). (T)here is now a longing for temporary amnesi(A).
Stitching up a broken heart, A trade, a cult, a work of art, A skill, perfected, takes its time, To tack a thread through the fault line.
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