The Quiet Colors
by Michael Doyle

As the quiet colors
    Of the midnight hour
          Starts to come to close
As the quiet colors
    Of the midnight hour
          Starts to come to close

I feel as lonely as the pain inside
Tortured to my soul, and I cannot hide
I pray to the Lord above that I be strong enough
This time, I feel Satan calling my bluff

They can pull all the teeth from my head
And still, I stand and am not dead
I have never felt such deep, overwhelming pain
And still, I have no right to complain

As the quiet colors 
     Of the midnight hour
             Starts to come to close
As the quiet colors
     Of the midnight hour
              Starts to come to close

Sometimes, I feel like Job in his misery
Then I realize I'm confusing my history
I am reminded of all the wrong I have done
As I hang on my cross, I am nobody's son

The strings are pulled and broken in my soul
How much is too much in damaged control
I'm drowning here, quietly reaching above water
Quietly calling out, abandoned by my Father

As the quiet colors
      Of the midnight hour
               Starts to come to close
As the quiet colors 
       Of the midnight hour
                Starts to come to close

When you look into my eyes, tell me, do you see
I ask you for mercy because I no longer know me
This thing going on is killing me from the inside
The pain that I feel leaves me nowhere to hide

I hang from my broken cross, feeling crucified
While braver warriors tell me I've not even tried
The tears from my heart roll down my battered face
The rot of my soul is its only remaining trace

As the quiet colors
       Of the midnight hour
                Starts to come to close
As the quiet colors
       Of the midnight hour
                Starts to come to close
         
          ...The quiet colors bleed 

(c) June 5, 2024   Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved