Skies - a palette / Humans - a race

~ A carelessly strung stream of consciousness

With the dawn comes a new day,

Arise, I hail my Muse --

She does not remember the Greek myth nor does he invoke the Holy Ghost

For my Muse is too busy introspecting

They find a piece of glass

There they see themselves --

My Muse lives on the mountains

At the edge of the world,

My Muse swims deep

Peeps through the window of a building,

And looks out of the prison high

Sometimes, my Muse needs freeing.

My Muse does not always inspire, that is true

For my Muse is as human as you ;

She is white

She is black,

He is brown

He is pale,

They are yellow and are red,

Sometimes tan, sometimes not.

What colour would you like the most, o reader ?

This is for you to remember, the sky has no gender.

The clouds are beads, they join and give you rain

The necklace of love might break at times,

Do you cry then ?

Or is it just the rain ?

The sun and the moon --

They have a bittersweet symphony,

A notorious relationship might I say,

For they don't stand each other -- the love is destructive,

Just like your teenage sweetheart !

Fool me not, ye reader, for you are guilty too

Guilty of capturing the skies in your lenses,

And thinking of your beloved, losing almost all your senses.

The sky and the human --

Too many faces, too many beings

How many varieties would you like ?

Let me cut this straight and plain, for your heart is stupid and say -

With the coming of that one being

All your colour changes,

Be it the mighty sun

Or your mere person

You too are a fool,

You change too soon -- you are too weak,

For solace in the One you seek.

This is not a lesson,

Not a moral

Kill the bird

Mock the wind

Twist the fire

And burn your tongue,

Don't dare let death make you fear,

For you are still too young.