Lack of colorful black

Sound the drums, wings of hope denied,

falling away from standing strong.

Images of forced enlightenment kill,

taking light from my eyes to show my soul.

Song of doom sounding bass echoes of hate,

tattered and abuse laying restless and alone.

In my heart there is a color shaped in black,

red crying tears raining on what was forgotten.

Flying away to make it back from where I came,

holding light in this dark shade breaking red.

Veins speaking words so my mouth can fade,

succumb to the fears drying my way.

Doing nothing to take on this feeling of doubt,

caressed by fate in a song made of broken glass.

Drenched in emptiness sorrow divides my lips,

song pouring out over what was not yet clear.

Waiting in the shade of tomorrow’s ghost,

treading water swimming sands of ice.

Looking past who has passed on bearing guilt,

waking up in the dream reality had let go of.

Hands holding hands hearts breaking to be free,

seeing the painless bite of eternity burning flames.

My love has a name in which all loves do fail,

passing into a region coveted in desire my eyes.

As the grave ignores my pleas for tonight,

I fade away into this beauty within your arms.











Johnny Newell