A language of their own.
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Let it be constricted
Just to make sure
That the words in this language
Are not being too extravagant.
What if they are clothed
In a translucent veil?
What if they spell out everything
Without realizing
That the place they are in
Is not in the middle of nowhere
Or in the landscape of the world
That lies within the realms of my heart
But is a podium
In the bare world
Of monochromes
With hints of rainbows.
What if they mistake
Those tiny splashes of rainbows
To be the ethereal paintings in my heart.
Let it be constricted.
And thus the world becomes
Devoid of another expression.
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