Monochrome

Cold ground
Waking up back in the abyss
Farther down than before
Weathered chains reformed

Feathered wires crawling
Tethered wings sprawling

Reaching, never grasping
(Contact forever slipping)
Pulled by its tendrils, entrapped
(Extinguished by the skin that enfolds me)

Not a song in me
Not an ask to keep
No more colors to see
Not a goal worth the reach
The sun has burned it out of me