The Colourblind

She' s Dark ,They say.
All of her.
Her thoughts,
Her actions,
Her parable confessions,
And the repurcussions,
Of her camaraderie.
Her music seems morose,
With the minor chords,
Her words, seem philosophical,
"Sad But True" kind of riddles.

She's Bright Sometimes,
They say so too,
When the sun is up and beaming,
After a pouring night,
She shines like a diamond,
The dusky coat, glistens like sand.
She smiles and jokes
 and laughs and pokes,
 She drinks to the gifts of life.

How can she be both,
Dark and Bright?
Is there someone else,
living inside?
Alas, my friends, the commoners,
It is not as simple as you think.
There is no dark or bright,
Black or white,
Every mood paints you with a distinct color,
It is just a matter of perspective.

Bottled Up

And the confined stream comes gushing out,
Obliterating the barriers,deprived of solace.
Into the ocean ,as the sound seems lost,
Fading into the Saffron's grace.