Gray

Silently peering from within,

My once white soul, so stained from sin,

Yet still the light inside does spark,

Trying to illuminate the dismal dark,

The color of death, with the hope of life,

So what of Ivory?

So what of light?

I, the fool with eyes of night,

Dying roses in the garden,

Now forever ask for pardon,

Is forgiveness still within their grasp,

Or lost Just A Moment's lasp,

The End of the day, and day just begun,

So what of Gold?

So what of Sun?

In the beginning, or am I done?