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.