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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Spiritual · #645062
For all those who have seen the red of life.

Red was the stain,
On her lovely dress,
When the flame of breath
Was extinguished by night

Red, the hue of her eyes,
At sorrow’s visitation,
Shattered hearts forever,
In fragmented existence

Red and danger,
Beloved siblings together,
Who dares to sever,
The eternal umbilical

Red is the river,
Swimming under,
It’s vehement currents,
Long buried victims of human lust

Anger is red,
In her youthful blood,
A sweet and soft kiss,
Becomes a serpent’s hiss

The wine is surely red,
To celebrate the newly dead.
As red as the water’s waste,
That cleansed the guilty hands

Yes, murder is truly red,
Eve can see that now,
Floating in red rivers,
Deep in mother’s bowels.
© Copyright 2003 dele Orisha (orisha at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/645062-Crimson--Verse