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Rated: E · Poetry · Drama · #1876439
Another poem that I create. It is about colours at our lifes.
They used scarves to tie my hands,
and bind my eyes.
Their color was red as the fire,
in a sun dripping bitterness.

Why should I care about the color,
the moment that I would die?
It was the only light that I saw,
during my life,
the only color that was not coated with darkness,
that my life had brought.
© Copyright 2012 Euterpe (aspasia103 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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