Poets logo

Slumber

Grey matter

By James W McDonaldPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
Slumber
Photo by Rachel Moore on Unsplash

It wasn't until I went to bed that I realised that the light of day beckoned its return, that orange glow that shined above, an ageless display, discernibly witnessed due to the earths magnetic field rejecting spectrums that reveal its true colour... white.

Reminiscent of the moon reflecting only the glory of that which shines upon it, where tones of the mouth slip from shallow tongues and lips bare no cohesion to rescind such banter, be it cognitive and or dissonant, truth falls short against such walls, walls of conditioned scrutiny.

As the rainbow arches, though circular from above, the spines of narrow minded fools also arch, circular like a snake coiled in the grass that strikes when being stepped upon by disconcerted travelers, where be the true colours of complacency... where be the true colours of complacency?



surreal poetry

About the Creator

Enjoyed the story?
Support the Creator.

Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.

Subscribe For Free

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

    JWMWritten by James W McDonald

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.