GREY

GREY
In the underworld of top flights,
Good deeds neither appear appalling nor cheered,
Till the aging hair turns colourless.
The future of the blind, hopeless,
While the eyes 're still unsure who to see;
...
The cloud exhibits achromatic colours
Difference couldn't have been told,
Between black and white of tough time
Neither was right distinct from left-
Red begat orange; till ages fall;
...
A man in his prime, never wanted to
go down the grave, unfulfilled;
Oh! What a life of drama with less scenes
The present, unsure; Future still faintish
Then, as days roll, time flies;
...
Lads derailed from good trailing paths
The good deeds in the past, seem unworthy
"Why should we stick to destructing ways? "
Life's set of scent leaf; Odour, less perceiving
Fraudulence seem appalling over nights.
...
Now, grown children we have to cater,
Rights unwardy of the gloomy future
Our feet sliding off, from top we stand'
Future seen from bottom, unnoticed!
Indistinct, grey threads evolve from beneath

©Tex (2017)