rose

 

All I see is red.

Urgent and arresting red.

The blinking lights on the road red.

Her hair in the wind red.

Molten rage and dry wine red.

Wrinkled sheets and horror-filled dreams red.

Bonfire embers and crossed out ledgers

Demanding a pound of flesh.

A rose in a book to remember,

A shirt in the crowd to forget, the silence

Late at night.

Too many glass hearts with too little left

To spare;

Signs that warn keep away.

Hurt rises from the dead,

A lit match in a haystack.

One wrong step to pry the future away.

Forsaken lives in a hellish despair.

Bloodshot eyes counting down the days.

A collective holding of breath

Until the clock resets.

Stubbornly holding out for a new beginning

As we race towards the end.

Waiting for the sun to shine through closed eyes

And all we see is red.

**

Sitara is part writer. Part scuba diver. And is always on the lookout for more portals to a fictional world where all the magic and dragons exist. 

 

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