Blame games

It’s a beautiful one. 🙂

No one left to blame
It’s a synthesis of colour variations in a prism
That were stripped off of something essential
Dominated by black and white, estranged
Even grey did not look back at its merging schism

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Such complexities
And yet
Answers so simple
We cannot possibly conform to
Because we love the depths of all we can’t comprehend

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Like the painter who highlighted the mole on Mona Lisa’s cheek
Instead of focusing on her mystery
Sometimes, the way a horse’s mane rearranges its character,
Says more of such struggle, treading uphill.

The stroke of each brush, was the record of your existence,

the authority of your movement.

Each gesture, the quality of your thoughts.

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Nobody likes depicting the enigmas of nature
In a jar
Transparent on the outside
Formulated with the energies of, owls staying up all night to protect trees
Delaying the night and its…

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