The Gray Trilogy

PART I
The Black

I am lost! I have been forever alone
And again I am here, in a plain unknown
Not living thing in sight, and no sun above
Not a wolf's dark howl, or a cry of a dove…

Where is here? And who am I?
My soul through mist must fly
I am afraid, but ever stern
Loneliness can be learned

And yet I am awake, again, in decay
Complete emptiness to every day
I'm on a planet of dark and black
Experience in this, though, I do not lack

But I am alone! Forever on the edge of sound
Though I am free, I wish I would be bound
So I could hear the fall of leaves in Autumn
And see the Summer grass' blossoms

I do not imagine what grass or leaves might be
But I have heard echoes filled with honest glee
My worlds are but hazy mirrors from forgotten pasts
My memories drowned like ships' old masts

So I have no claim to sorrow, grief or pain
I am neither dead nor living – that much is plain
I am attired in a gray-hooded cloak
I travel silent, like a wisp of smoke

And damned be the one that ever steals
My thoughts and my self conceals
Of waiting I am weary, though forever I may wait
I must now find my misty, shrouded fate

I travel to the stars and black, by way of night
Oh, let me find identity at the end of flight
An empty look for this gray world I give
For a full look is spared for those who live…

I am away.
I am above.
I am the way.
I'll be the dove.



PART II
The White

I am a swimmer and a bird
In an unending lake of stars
Through all things unseen, unheard
I journey now, my destination's far

Whoever said the sky was dark
Looked only to the ground
True, it is both desolate and stark
But the White here is abound

Nebulae, comets, stars and worlds
Ever present in a background of white
They fly by me, like a bouquet of twirls
Out here there is no day or night

And though I feel no cold
I almost see its frosty bite
My mane, now gray and old
Is slowly turning white

Where is my destination?
That I do know not myself
Maybe true is the temptation
That the journey is the quest itself

And yet as I think that thought
Before me I see an island made of black
Of obsidian its gates are wrought
And them upon hangs a plaque

„Greetings to the traveler, come in,
If you should seek reprieve
The Master's here and has always been
To him your tale you'll weave“

And through those darkest gates I sailed
In to the kingdom of the gray
There was no guard I could have hailed
So to the throne I made my way…



PART III
The Gray

A voice ushered me into the Hall
Above me black and white, though gray the wall
And inside I know, for certain
The master's here, down goes the curtain

And all my yearning was replaced
By a grim, foreboding dread
Should I wish to mystery's knot unlace?
Shall with truth I get into bed?

Yet, here, at journey's end
In a place neither black nor white
Memory shall soon portend
A revelation painful, but for certain bright

Speak to me gray Master!
Sing my victories and sins!
Be I a fool or a disaster
At last I'll wear my true skin

There are no mirrors in the gray
No borders even on the fringe of sight
No light here an the dark could pray
No darkness in the gray, no wrong or right

And finally the master came
The lord of all, but not a god
He said that Chaos was his name
Yet there was Order in his blood

And he sung to me an olden tale
A piece of him and a piece of me
A guide along memory's old trail
Where I found the truth, such as it could be

I wished to cry 'havoc' and retreat
Rain blood from every sky!
I wished to forget, but 'tis no easy feat
Memory cannot now dormant lie

My quest is never joyful, but it must be done
All living meet me before they dead become
Since the dawn of time I've been, but drew no breath
Each and every world I've bridged, for I am death.

THE END