Blind

Human heart black as night; Darkness depth beyond our sight. A dusk posions this beautiful world. Soul of child still white and pure, Turns grey with loss of our demure. Does face exist without this tarnish? Who can see past the colours kept? Only those who have mourned and wept; Over their life in colour, stolen at birth. Days are like a black parade To him who can't see the colour fade; He cannot see our condemning paint. He whose innocent soul will never die; Has never seen the world with his own eye.