Of deepest blues, and somber grays
Out his window, a little boy did gaze
A meadow far across the land
A mass of blossoms filled it’s span
Such sweet aromas filled the air
One could not help but want to be there
If he could only escape for a moment, or two
To run amongst the lily’s blue
And so he did upon that day, before the sunset
To run, and play
In such glistening of the flowers
The boy outlived his limited hours
For when the sun had gone away
The buds showed pale, and ghostly gray
What at first appears as joyous, and fun
Is merely an illusion, made by the sun
