Gray

I have been called neutral
I have been called dull
I have been called bland
but you are wrong.
Is a wisp of smoke,
traversing untold miles
through frozen caves
and windswept plains
dull?
Is the muffled silence
of some far off tornado
destroying everything in its way
neutral?
Is a stone rubbed smooth
by ever-attacking waves
off a New England shore
bland?
No.
I am power,
I am mystery.
And when my master
pulls you through his veil,
I will swoop in
and take you away.