Black/green/ash
I am a man in black. Yet, I do not dress in black . Still, black becomes my heart that suffers from the bite of a snake I never knew to have such a venom. A tender heart eclipsed by the grotesque, thing it has become. Oh! What a fool I was. A green sprout yearning for the brightness of rainbows. Vivid are those who cloak themselves in rainbow. Oh! Had I only known that all radiance in essence were the daughters of venom. Would then I might have not become the ash I am. A pile of ash without the light I once loved.
Wow!... Whilst I loved some of the images... to paraphrase you, "A green sprout" always yearns "for the brightness of rainbows." It so happens we are all sprout; and to so happens the rainbow is not a passing refraction. But venom, in the end, should die out. Why keeping it in a crescent pool, like a paralysed moon?
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