Red

Just an attempt at making a themed poem. In this poem, much like in most of my other poems, I usually will think of something visual and then craft a scenario or feeling from that.

fields of red roses lie before me

everywhere I look a rose grows truly

yet something in their existence is still unruly

the sky turns red as the sun sets fast

but before me lies a field so vast

and yet I wonder, "Will this breath be my last?"

running to escape, I prick my finger

such a reminder, there is no splendor

such red streams will always linger