Tender is the Night
In the search for a safe haven
I refuse to open my eyes–
For it was too bright,
And the stars are only visible at night
Red is too passionate, too endearing
Yellow too uplifting, too pretentious
Orange is too joyous, too ignorant
And everything else is too exhausting to keep up with
I’d rather
Plant flowers of grey–
Safe within my indecision,
Safe within the ambiguity
I am waiting in this barren land,
Counting the days until the Sun comes,
Because they said, ‘it will, it will’
And I’m worn out, saying ‘it will, it will’
But I need not wait–
For I am not a fool
Who wishes for rainbows and butterflies
In the midst of a rainstorm
I’d rather
Wait for the sky to clear,
Waltzing alongside the raindrops
And its hymn of Sorrows
Safe in the embrace of mediocrity
Befriending melancholy,
Replenished within the monsoon showers
Admitting defeat,
Surrendering to where the stream will take me:
Where the dead fishes go
Where the spiritless depart