Colors become one as dusk fades into the long, black night. Stars ablaze above the empty room— mystery in the cosmos, chaos in the mind. Lonely bed beneath the glowing moon— ambivalent heart, hope-filled sky. Dark void of the midnight hour: well of creativity, the soul’s resolve. Thick inkiness of silence: my purgatory home between worlds unknown. Colors burst as dawn invades perpetual waning and waiting.
By Stephen Copeland
This poem was first published on www.copelandwrites.com.