A moment of yellow.

in poetry •  7 years ago 

Or the color blue.
The transition through
The trough.

Balance owes you a visit
Said the rock to the man with the
High.

High spirits, high blues. Its only life!
Said the sky.

A hedonists worse nightmare awaits him around the nights bend into daylight.
A dreadful next move.

A betrayal by the most inconceiveable naunces.
A beauty followed by an ugly.
A high bright green, moving to a slow sad blue.

The rewards of discipline amount to contentment and balance in a consistent manner.
The rewards of lack thereof arrive into balance by means closer to a pendulum swing.

And the man, as a pendulum, swung from one next to the next.

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