Even as I sit, Yes. I dread the day ahead. The ins and outs of crowds. Passerbys of stories unlived. We are the lost kind. Ignorant children. Humans. We bleed at simple words. Cursed silence. And still the colors bleed. We are nothing. A blip in time. Another domino on the board. Shaken at placement. The game. To live. To Die. The unspoken truth. And we lavish in it’s greatness. No second thought. But still, our colors bleed.