Midnight At The Art Gallery

I'm not even sure I like this. I was just trying something new. Theres an incredibly abstract idea behind this too, which I probably can't explain in a way that isn't abstract on its own. Anyway, enjoy.

Midnight At The Art Gallery

The surroundings prepare for battle,
from opposite sides of the colour wheel.
Horizon love,
inner coflict,
sick of grey.
Standing in the ethereal middle,
where no one speaks evil of the vilified,
he sits as a pacifist.
Armoured hat and iron coat,
admiring the abscence of their need.

"I don't need your threats," he threatens,
a hint of defiance with inferiority issues.
Lacking in itself,
crying to wake resistance.
Dread the means,
the unjust end,
the only thing left to learn.
War on an incomplete idea, nearing expiration.
Living to die,
like it was an original thought.

This came from the other side,
where being unique was nothing special.
Break the wheel,
dull the senses,
put an end to this grey area perception.

I liked it... From my view of it, it's something that I think about a lot. Not sure if it's what you intended to put into it. So... yes... if it counts, I enjoyed the poem.

I loved it - except for the last line. I hate the last line. Get rid of it. Change it. DO SOMETHING WITH IT BEFORE I GO CRAZY....ok, I'm sane now

Midnight At The Art Gallery <--- Love the title. So abstracted.

The surroundings prepare for battle,
from opposite sides of the colour wheel.
Horizon love,
inner coflict,
sick of grey.

-- this bit is awesome. The rhythm perfectly emphasizes the dull mood, echoed in "sick of grey". I get the picture of a battle-ground on a flat plain, brown with mud, beneath a cloudy, overcast sky. Great stuff.

Standing in the ethereal middle,
where no one speaks evil of the vilified,
he sits as a pacifist.
Armoured hat and iron coat,
admiring the abscence of their need.

-- Interesting patchwork of opposites. I like the ideas behind this.

"I don't need your threats," he threatens,
a hint of defiance with inferiority issues.
Lacking in itself,
crying to wake resistance.
Dread the means,
the unjust end,
the only thing left to learn.
War on an incomplete idea, nearing expiration.
Living to die,
like it was an original thought.

-- Brilliance.

This came from the other side,
where being unique was nothing special.
Break the wheel,
dull the senses,

-- you're nearing the high point here, swinging up to deliver the final punch, but...

put an end to this grey area perception.

-- MAJOR anticlimax. Was this intentional? I think you need fewer syllables and more pizazz here, but thats just me.

Anyways, awesome overall, just that one niggly bit [glares at the last line] which you NEED TO GET RID OF OR ELSE...heh... 8-[

It's me again. LOVED IT.