How far are you willing to bend to fate, to destiny? How much longer will the thread of your life to hold? How much are you willing to sacrifice your soul for something as petty as hope?
Its going to break under strain and when it does, I would like to be there to witness such atrocity. I would want to revel in the destruction of those who keep faith. Not that I care about these people. Just looking at the foolish people who deceive themselves throughout their lives and die in the end with nothing but upturned soil called grave as a mark that they once existed. Even that gives way after a few decades.
What is colour to a dying man? What meaning does the blue of the sky hold for a person who is to be engulfed forever in the dark? Nothing whatsoever. He is downtrodden and dejected. He holds nothing but a sad melancholy in his dying heart and will take that heart with its memories to his grave.