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revolution of color
grey matter spat and gathered
she lies within two shades
her hair is black, arms are white
no color in her day
but when one moment shows another
she thinks of how to pass
on the time after the crime
where broken memories last
she draws now
her world on paper
flowing lines of change
interstates across her face
illuminate the page
but who to notice
it does not matter
for this her only plea
to be sustained
in Lion's mane
a portrait holds a key
never before has she stroked
a pencil to a page
for when the wind blew again
she fell out of her cage
and on the lines she drew in time
she found herself between
a portrait and real life
caught in the deep unseen
and through a glorious letting out
she realized her key
that after so many rainy times
she suddenly was free
crossing over after eyes
have become like new
her middle clutter scattered out
and out the color flew
and though it not on her part
she thanks her Painter's way
for it is only through His work
that her's would turn from grey
