Spirit of the day

Dark, dark the day,
White, white the ash,
The hands are cold,
The wound a gash.
Window pain,
On grey white street,
Misty thoughts, Where we would meet.
Blue our hands,
But for the brown,
Rivers deep,Where we would drown.
Bones to creek,
Teeth to gnash,
Dark, dark the day,
White, white the ash.