Shades of Grey

There is a sense of grey in this hollow world. Things spin around in incessant spirals, leading to nowhere, trashing and crashing. There is nothing more. The rivers are now drying and all is empty.

Eyes stare into the grey paint etched onto the edge of this world. They say these eyes will help. That seeing more of them will make everything a little clearer. I tried and the grey would not leave. It's hard to say you see clearly, when there is only grey.

Sometimes I wish someone would just come and scrape all the grey away. One of them has tried, and he didn't have the right chemicals to peel the paint away. He says I must find the right chemicals. But how can I find them if I can't see?

It's lonely here, in this world. There's nobody else. It's doesn't get very warm either. I don't like the cold, not when it is ubiquitous. I need company or help, but no-one will help me. I can't do this alone.

It's all grey in here. I miss the colours.