Another poem for those who would like to read. Just wrote it now and have not spent too much time on it but hey, its something right?
The Day Deteriorates To The West
The day deteriorates to the west,
God drags his brush through his palette and carefully strokes bursts of Citrine in-
between the Onyx sky.
Rivers run rapid, bursting with billowing clouds--an eruption of Diamond--the
water is lost.
The ocean, once a blanket weaved of Tourmaline and Agate, now dry--stricken with
Sunstone and Moonstone.
Fields prove barren--Jasper soil prevails.
Trees fade to Amber.
Lifeless colors lament.
11am and I am still looking east,
to the Peridot and Iolite of her eyes.
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