In the white noise and black lights,

my mind was void of hue.

You were a voice in the night,

a light so brightly beaming through.

We burned down the family tree,

and severed it at its roots.

The first is also the sweetest bite

of the most forbidden of fruits.

The rose that is most ravishing in sight

often shrouds the sharpest thorns.

We rose from ashes in the grayscale;

by love we were reborn.

A rose so ashen, gray and pale

born again from the ashes of sin,

we rose from sackcloth and ashes,

to be revived, but to never repent.

Like leather and bleach,

like the West and the East,

we collided with one another.

From our vests, our blue jeans,

and our jaded daydreams,

faded all light and color.

Set to float and not sink,

like paper boats in black ink,

our hearts absorbed an absent hue.

My divine destiny

was to part the red sea,

but I grew further apart from you.

Left defenseless, the book of our genesis

parted at its seams and tore at its pages.

Cold and colorless, we sailed into the abyss,

and not even Jesus Christ could save us.