Greeting It

A greeting has been achieved of a long sort,
The madness of a revolver is upon us.
The greeters speak many colours, of fierce
And many ways, too much whining happened.
This greeting matches loveliness, of colours,
And shortcomings are absent, running up to nothing.
A blue colour shall inhabit the sky from now on,
A paleness resides in the heavens now,
Why do we instill love in those elements needing none?

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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