crimson bushes conjure spells;
hold me tender is their call;
reckless hands get the scarlet wrath;
tender hands get the scarlet fragrance;
i would say;
you could be a little more cautious (in life);
is the message you try to teach.
where from did you learn this art;
of filling heart;
with black and white;
in equal parts;
you spill black, when i finally am settling in the too bright white;
you paint white, when i eventually start seeing solace in the dark black;
why these unbearable swings of torment;
why not paint me scarlet once and for all;
i fly away with white wings,
into the black void,
breaking bond with the scarlet forever.
~ ~ ~
This poem is written for One Single Impression. The prompt for the week is ‘crimson’.