Not loyalty and cowardice,
but innocence and sunlight intermixed;
not royalty or avarice,
these symbols of the mutable unfixed
that mark the inner windows of the mind --
the kindly human part of human kind.

I ask these colors now for purity:
a resting place mid tones of sympathy:
assuredness and that needs no surety,
and silent emphasis in empathy
through portals into veterate regard --
these soft-lit corridors of way-too-hard

that stretch in endless darkness and decay,
that reach beyond words anyone could say,

but no less turn to truth, like night

 
to day