It opened with a bright light,
Literally out of blue.
Blinded by joy, I was.
Or euphoria, was it?
As my vision adjusted,
I fluttered in the golden yellow,
Romancing the rains of Cassia.
How lucky it felt to capture that moment!
While I was drowning deep in sublime,
Feeling all so lucky and strong.
The realization of dimming yellow came too late,
Signalling the end of the prime.
Just trying to gather whatever I could,
The yellow draining out so fast.
Pale withered leaves loosely holding on to the past.
The sadness of the autumn.
Then came the red.
Of setting Sun.
The anger took over the sadness of loss.
Finding faults and levying blames, all across.
The grey followed,
Dark thoughts clouding any fair judgement.
‘Twas difficult to tell apart,
The right from the wrong.
After a short grey of planning revenge,
Came a total absence of any feeling.
They call it the colour black,
A subtle nod to Kubler and Ross’s whack.
I don’t think I am a fan of black or nothingness.
But darkness gives me perfect cover,
To try out things that I’d have probably not
If I knew someone was watching over.
Don’t know what happened while I tried things out,
For a long time nothing did.
But then there was a faint light at distance,
Perhaps something had clicked, some spell.
I don’t exactly know the colour,
But there was an emotion bubbling.
I could listen to the morning calls of birds,
While I witnessed the darkness dissolving.
And then it happened,
A vast blanket of comfort stretched.
A wizard’s moment of achievement.
Blue, the warmest colour of all.
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