Spreading onwards for miles under heavenly blue skies
Tall, majestic trees and endless, emerald grass
Delightedly accentuated with graceful flowers
Vibrant beryls, vivacious browns, vivid orbs of beauty
Are halted, interrupted by pale grey stone
And listless silence
A silence of quiet resignation
A voiceless acceptance
Of death and pain
Pallid ache and wan mourning
Graveyards – the metaphors of humanity
Where death and life intertwine
Death in life, and life covering death
Like a multicolored ocean in its ebb and flow
Constantly burying and birthing in a single breath
Its scars quick to fade and erase existence
Truly, color is our death
Black is the end, the scar, the memory
It is color that  buries the bleak past
Condemns it to et memoriam, and nothing more
For we are not fully dead until we are forgotten
Black is the memory, iridescence - the bliss of oblivion
Oblivion to who and what once were
Darkness and black could never mark true death
For they are the pain of remembrance
But light and livid color wash away all pain
And leave the dead to die completely.