Gray...

Custom User Avatar
More by this author
It’s not the melancholy gloom
depicted in paintings;
it is a quiet, meditative rest.
A fog-shrouded meadow where sits
one man in the dancing autumn mist,
the shrieks of civilization quieted.
The pointed finger of societal criticism
lowered for a tranquil moment.
Just a man and his mind, together at last,
in solitude—where a man can be himself
and hush the affectation of companionship.
It is a man in his ultimate ecstasy.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback