give me your hand,
let me hold you;
let's get down
let's watch the sun.
the hues are so bright
the hues are dying
maybe, for a better start
or maybe, for a better ending
it's the red he leaves behind
it's the lust for the lone land
it's the same everyday
turning darker and darker
it seems our sun knows,
to leave the violet behind
and we look helplessly
for the red in the violets
it's hard to find something light
it's hard to find something not transient
let's leave with the sun
let's start like the sun
alone...bereft...
and then if our sun freshens up soon
we will come get the red here
_____
©VioletEden
16thApril2017
YOU ARE READING
Vermillion
PoetryI have been surviving the past few years, counting on my hands, the days taking me, to the impending end. I will not. I will not sacrifice my hands anymore for something so sacrilegious. I color my hands with Vermillion, rub the pages of my noteboo...
