I'm Colorless

I woke in shades of almost-gray,

Where dreams once bloomed now fade away,

The sky a wash of empty hue,

The dawn arrives, but nothing’s new.

Paint dripped dry on canvas wide,

Stories muted, tongues that hide,

Eyes that search for vivid streams,

But find only hollow dreams.

The rose has lost its crimson fire,

The sun, its warmth, the heart, desire,

A world unlit, no spark to find,

A palette dulled by tired mind.

Yet in the void, a whisper grows —

Even silence gently knows:

Before the brush returns to kiss,

We sit inside the colorless.