Forums » Art & Creativity » The truths behind the black

I saw beauty that was so blacked
The curves pull me in with its gravity
But soon the white behind shows and I'm attacked
To her a life of experience, but to others, societal depravity

The scale of experience begin to weigh heavily as the sinking of my heart
No pound of brick, no pound of feather, just one side scaling the other
How can I define for myself with nothing to tear apart?
The illusion of black is no more, all that remains is an unnerving bother.

A painting of words to help my calms
Perspectives and colors and directions shown
But my heart and emotions continue to tremble in my palms
To trade this away I wish I'd never known

The history of choices and experience with something
How can I hope to understand when I begin with nothing?

Writer's comments:
Sometimes knowing just crushes your soul. You try to understand. You know the logic of it, but just knowing about it eats at you like a miner hacking away at the stone to get gold that isn't there. It just breaks your own foundation, and one day you will shatter.

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