A Dull Grey

Uncertain thoughts finally land on the sea floor,
Their final resting place,
Only a faint want remains,
To maybe one day resurface them.

These thoughts of love fall like shooting stars,
Burning in an atmosphere of introspection,
They land on the earth as ash,
To be left forgotten by the wayside.

The inspiration has died,
Only self remains,
The zipper has closed the mouth shut,
Indefinitely.

And the crimson has faded into a dull grey.

-Sir Jestro