time

While you’re trying to find your way
In a dark room where all is grey,
You should notice you become sluggish,
Whether or not it’s a place you know like the back of your hand,
It’s all made of black and white.

Oh, it’s all made of black and white,
It is your eyes that are made to see,
Never would you notice the eyes themselves are blind,
Or would you like to explain to me why you can’t see in the dark?
To tell me why my mind’s depictions are unavailable for projection,
To tell me you feel lonely in a group of people and not see you all feel the same,
To tell me why you perceive the eyes as efficient, not flawed,
When they falter in the shadows, where truth is clawed?
It all becomes clear as the end draws near.

With time slipping away, a reminder to be kind,
To cherish moments, leaving no regrets behind,
Watch life slip through your fingers, with a solemn vow,
To improve in each tomorrow, a better version somehow.

If only the eyes could glimpse what lies beyond,
Perhaps then, it would be somewhat easier to bear,
To navigate the unknown, to find comfort in the air,
In a dark room where all is grey,
It’s all made of black and white.