The Lovely Void

Vain a state my cerebellum drearily appears Cranking a wicked sequence of quirky images Anonymously rapping at the door of my slumber In the wee hours of the echoing sun Oh, A thousand pennies I'd pay For a minor degree of peace Ah, Time How fickle she can be Yet by many a homosapien She is cherished Upon the lips of Life And upon the bosom of Death She bestows great contrast Black and white a void conceived Profound a dash of color annexed Time; Isn't she lovely? © 2011 (All rights reserved)