Caveman

With those shaking legs, he stood,
Crawling from within the ashes, he perused,
Fettered to the ashes, inhibiting in that lonely cave,
Sun bore the crimson ruby right above his head,
His silhouettes crafted upon the wall,
His legs swathed in fire, his head cloaked in smoke,
For his dawn was the glistening ruby,
And his dusk were his muffled silhouettes.

Somehow, be it will, force, or just luck,
The flames hushed, the chains were undone,
He walked his first steps out of the cave,
Trying to catch the vision, and peacefully exhale,
Intense glaring ruby burned his new-born eyes,
With his head held down, he continued,
Abstaining himself from the colors, he looked for the greys,
His life was still stuck between ruby, and now, growing silhouettes.

Watching them turn and twist within themselves,
He endured this new endless cave,
Grasping the images, the memory bore a little action,
New possibilities, new hope was awakened,
For he mastered in learning from the shadows,
Grey showing colors, and beauty born from ashes,
No matter how radiant the ruby glistened over his head,
He walked with his head held low, perusing from the silhouettes.