The White Cascade

Let me sprinkle some colours......And perhaps a soul, and a smile, or may be a just a mile, of a talk with a walk, staring into the evening's lock, then, may be the white won't weep, some tunes to your eyes your lips might sweep........Then may be, I can fly, into my death satiated I lie........I drown, I frown, at the colourless crown, into the abyss of the heaven my broken life strown......But the white dies away, they grays are few, the pastels dimly sway, and the vibrancy is new.............