Lack of the Same
If I leave it was not due
to desires misplace or confused.
If I leave it is because
I lost desire to continue on.
The highs are muted by the lows,
flat line drawn across the stage
when scenery does not fetch
an eye blinded by circumstance.
Static is the soundtrack heard
when mute is the only choice
against a background of discord
broadcast by a life distressed.
Colors must still exist
outside the world now made gray.
Brilliant rainbows have escaped
no longer seen after the rain.
Symptoms of desire removed
are banal in their realm revealed.
The end has come before I know
the desire has left, no longer here.
© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160207.