Poetry

The Color of Days

written by: Script Runner

Can you see the Hill,
Lavishly cloaked with tempered greens;
Where one can fill,
One's desire for heavenly things?
On the crest the sunlight fades,
While needle and thread
Weave the color of days.
The orange and red
Set my soul to fire,
Touching the heart of my desire

Creeping purple tints the sky;
I fear that this fire must die.
A fissure forms in my chest
And expands to consume my head;
Expounding the words that are pounding,
Sensibility into a semblence of dread.
The darkness beckons with soft tones,
Almost convincing the ageless stones
That Night is eternal,
and hope is lost.
That I am mortal,
not worth the cost.

But within, the fire still burns.
And inside, i feel the world turn.
Though the shadows my blur,
And my thoughts begin to slur,
I lift my head and stand;
Rising above the fault of man.

I only hope that I can bear
The weight of weakness,
The frailty of fear.
I look to the sky and find
The stars smiling back at me.
I feel that His love is blind
And lasts for eternity.