Colors of War

Feel chewed flesh

Bloody lips stain pale sweat

Salt mixing with corruption

Tasting of fear

Of anguish

Of waiting

Waiting for the moment that red will spur revolution

And white will be the new black

Bones will grind and muscles will flex

Setting hearts to fire

Until they burn to ash

As dark as the bruises left

Blood

Bones

Sweat

Red

This is the mantra of the rebel

Whose destiny is not defined

By the whispers holding it back