Is this nothing but a white world,
With color only an illusion?

I was told that God created a beautiful rainbow,
But what is a rainbow if it has no true color?
Daylight stars?

What is that voice?
Is it nothing but a whispered contradiction.
Only proving itself right and wrong all at once,
Only seeing and going blind,
Holding hands and walking out into a liar’s sunset.

Isn’t there something else?
A word?
A voice?
A dialect?
Something to be a lighthouse in the sea of wavelengths?
Red.
Orange.
Yellow.
Green.
Blue.
Indigo.
Violet.
A beacon to guide you out of the Roy G. Biv Ocean,
To float you to the gray dawn,
Like a whisper in the night?

Could there truly be something like the sun,
When liars only speak in hues of gray?