Red

A window sill and the hollow sky,

Are all that hold his stare.

The naked man breathed no word,

That the ashen clouds could share.

"Imminent storms!"-the radio blared;

A gust of wind, against whispering walls.

A soulless room, a man enraged,

A howl of pain in silent halls.

He thinks! He thinks! Of crystal eyes.

As blue as a sapphire stone;

A lover's touch, a thought endures

That speaks of Hope's demise.

Must he pray, for midnight dreams?

'Neath a sky in fragments torn,

The Rainy Night only screams.

And pays no heed to his forlorn.

As a crimson scar, upon poems scrawled

From Love's own burning flame,

Verses writ and left appalled,

– "Betrayal has grasped the dame!"

And yet!And yet!That rueful smile...

His eyes that glisten and shine;

Shall tear away, for that fateful name,

The remnants of the Divine.

Now soulless rests, the place called 'Home';

In a worldly gloom of white and black...

It yearns thus, for a master lost.

And the shape of red, in monochrome.