• On the wind,
    I see colors.
    The colors of,
    So many wandering souls.
    They go by,
    Lost forever by time.

    The colors,
    Why can no one see?
    Can they,
    Or is it only me?

    The souls all have,
    A different scene.
    But the meaning,
    I can glean.

    With the colors,
    Floating as the wanderers act.
    Their actions all,
    Take on a colored pact.

    Angry ones so flustered,
    From the wrong side of the bed.
    I can see one main color,
    That color's name be Red.

    Lost souls crying,
    Sobbing from Depression's bite.
    Taking their sadness in my eyes,
    All that comes is a soft Blue light.

    Then as i sit there,
    I see a Scared, lost little fellow.
    But for his soul,
    All i can see is Yellow.

    I see those together,
    Two souls joined by Love.
    As joyous as can be,
    Their souls each as White as doves.

    The one standing behind a tree,
    Staring in bitter Jealousy.
    I feel bad for their soul,
    For it glows a sickly Green.

    For those trouble with naught,
    I behold the spirits of those truely Happy.
    Smiling, Singing,
    Cheeks flushed Pink as they run free.

    As it is,
    Seeing their troubled emotions,
    All the colors meld.
    After my split-second peek,
    I realize that the final color,
    The color of all souls,


    Is Black.