Crimson

Shattered you lie, clinging to my layers 

A touch has tainted your skin, a finger has dared.

Been granted with your grace, they deemed you a flower,

One which blossoms in its youth, and dies at their power.

But the shrieks of their laughter haven't seen your eyes,

Embers light whose grace, swords ready to arise.

The bangles chiming their assemblies are destined to pierce skins,

The tears that my folds hide, mark an end to their sins.

I lie aloof from the shoulder I once used to crown, before burning empires, flames don't seek frowns.

Pink has your cheeks been, a meadow to your face,

Like the sun amidst skies orange, let crimson be their grace.

Wrap me to your skin, flaunt me as the cause,

The drape which adorned their temple will now be waging wars.

Mouths will stay gaping, as their feet turn to ice,

Let the directions echo the fire, which burnt the dice.