Faded.

To know that the world,
Is as colorful even now,
As it seems, in the vintage monochromes;
Silent in their chorus of a bygone time,
Is a sweet thought with sour taste,
For how are we to dwell and dissolve,
One with the eternal moment,
And yet be remembered,
As a sole flower in the bouquet,
If years away from now,
Fading against the flow,
We are to remain nothing more than a shade of each other.

Author: TheHumanAnvil

I find poetry as a gentle reminder, a medium to relay and dwell upon all things considerate people find inconsiderate. Poetry as an art is akin to a lamp or a magnifying glass. It trails volumes of meaning behind obscure, vague words. I have been writing for a time now, and intend to do so for the time to come. And hopefully, hopefully, hope that one day, someday, a person stumbling across this veil of words, find it alluring enough to shift aside the curtain and peer, into the eyes of the naked truth which sways with the wind of reason. If you have any thoughts, it would be my pleasure to know them, if you don't then it would be a pleasure to not. Be my guest. This feast of words is for you. View all posts by TheHumanAnvil

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