Through the watery magnifying glass,
Focus changes
Becoming blurry, then clear
Making me see first beauty, then ugliness
Both of which I thought I wanted, but quickly regret seeing.
The colors of the rainbow filter through the glass,
Blinding me with a feeling I can no longer describe
Then, rashly turning to different shades of no color
Both of which I thought I wanted, but can no longer feel.
From the magnifying glass,
The sun tries to filter through permanent clouds
At the expense of natural light.
Am I able to feel those colors anymore?
Do I no longer want what I thought I need?
Or, is it that I need what I no longer want?
Internally too tired to answer any doubts
Slowly drifting away from any sense of color
No longer able to feel bright, nor dark
Only the slow creeping of monotone
Taking over every fiber slowly but surely
As if to taunt that me, saying
There is no way to stop this.
