Shades of Gray

All I am is cold,

cold as the curve
of granite formed of a face
from forgotten times,
dead in the chill of winter.

Lost in a darkness
of dancing diamonds
beneath a blanket to sheathe
the surface of a testament
to a time of surrender.

Deprived of thought,
viscerated to feel numb
rather than blinded,
I see all shades of gray
in the shadows of my statue.