pure solitary boring emptiness of thought
Woke up to a white world that's in
the middle of a cloven dream sequence
Why wake if there's no color to behold,
no green or rich blues, red yellow, orange hues?
Orange, I think, would be a choice best,
for it serves the rousing expanse of morning
and is the bearer of the world's citrus needs
No rhyme does it need, nor explanation of crux,
for its spirit defies mortality to electrify the dawn.