Pensieve : part V
If the blossoming touch of love was pink,
She filled her memories with wild flowers
of pale pink.
If laughter was a lively yellow,
She bathe herself in the fragrance of the bright
yellow flowers of spring.
If the soothing presence of the ocean was blue,
She fell into clouds of breathtaking blue.
If anger was red,
She burnt herself to death in the flaming fire of red.
If pain was violet,
She destroyed her every thought of what killed her with stains of the darkest violet she knew.
And, if 'he' was grey,
She was simply clueless of what she had become,
at the end of it all.
For, it has always been 'him' who made her burst into a mist of unexplainable calamities.
_________________________________
JE LEEST
Pensieve
Poetry'Pensieve' : A place to store your thoughts, when the World gives you too many reasons to think about. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Poetry with a touch of pain, although at times, joy & love at its most!
