Crimson.

You look towards the setting sun

Burning like the fever in your head

Like the ring of fire encompassing you

Like the blurred opinions of your immature head

 

You look towards your favourite twilight sky

Teaching you lessons of your clogged existence

The crimson trail of clouds it leaves behind

The sky playing peekaboo with you

 

And you look back at what was once your day

Once a true, reciprocated love of yours

And now the howling storm clouding your mind

And the love in your heart seems like a void

 

You have now complaints about how nothing’s the same

Dancing with the devils and your inner demons

Waiting for the sun to shine again and show you the way

Waiting for the North Star to shine from within

 

You want to push those who tried to make you feel miserable

Off the cliff of your head to let them off your personal mind

To strangle each with your own bare hands

Till their skin matches your own crimson soul. 

 

Because it’s NaPoWriMo, another Poetry Challenge based on the theme colour.
The Colour Challenge: A week of original poetry based on seven colours.

(I’m extending the challenge by trying to tell a story through the seven colours. Don’t know if it’ll work out though.:P)

Follow me on Twitter: @WallflowerBlack

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About TheBlackWallflower

I'm just your average unique person. I love to read and write (no surprises there, eh?) and think a lot. I adore Rowling and think Harry Potter should be a religion. I also hate pink. I love fluff generally because it makes me feel intelligent and I love poetry because it makes me feel different. (yes, references.) I'm married to Sirius Black. So I sign myself as The Bitch alarmingly often. Oh, and I love Mr. Darcy. And Jo Longo. And Chandler Bing. And Sherlock. (Yes, I'm a fantard.) And in case you want to drop in a good, or a critical word, feel free to email me: theblackwallflower@gmail.com OR, follow me on Twitter: @WallflowerBlack Enough with the babble. OkBye. View all posts by TheBlackWallflower

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