Colored Are Her Eyes

-Colored Are Her Eyes-
by Keaton Foster



Colored are her eyes
Empty they seems for miles
The hue speaks of her truth
The lack of variation
Is a strong indication
Of her ultimate decimation
Behind the lens
Beyond the vertex of their bend
Simply put there is nothing there
A nothing that few dare share
A nothing that offers no return
No chance to ever again runneth over
She is all but deceased inside
A standing, walking, breathing
Reciting waste of human space
What she has come to be
What she has come to say
All of it increasingly queer
From my POV I wonder why
But from an even closer proximity
I know that I would never ask why
Not because I don’t wanna know
But because I’m afraid of the answer
The truth that she lives is the lie
That I prefer to keep very close
How will such a fate as hers affect me
How will her demise change my life
Such preponderances will become
The sum of all the time I have left
Once
For a brief moment I somehow loved her
Not for any amount of reasonable return
Did she ever come to fall in love with me
I was the specter that she has now become
Colored are her eyes
Empty is her head
To those who know her
Understand that she is all but dead
A rotting virtue
That no longer holds accurate
A dammed parable to be expressed
Only after she has nothing left
Further adding to her dismay
Deeper inside I can now see
Brittle has become her spine
Unstable are her bones
Her soul is all that is whole
All that is not lacking in role
All that she has left to lose
All that has yet to be taken away
Colored are her eyes
Empty they seems for miles
The hue speaks of her truth
The lack of variation
Is a strong indication
Of her absolute decimation
I’ll be here just waiting
Admiring from our distance
Just watching on as she
Collapses in upon herself
Colored are her eyes
Solid is the hue
It speaks of her truth
And her ultimate doom…


Colored Are Her Eyes
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014.