The Grey

The bricks rise up from their roots,

and cast darkness behind them.

Even the view from the towers within, is stifled.

Lift your ear to the wall and listen for the echoes.

Forget not the time,

for soon enough the darkness will recede to the other side.

The grey is enough for my eyes.

So I trace with my fingers,

the sights and sounds.

Wisdom comes through understanding.

For those short hours,

nothing goes unnoticed. 

Even the darkness returning.

To dwell, 

is to not aspire. 

In the dwell, intentions die.

So I rest.

Awaiting the next change of light.