Crimson Red

Let the crimson flow and blend with the clear drops of bleak sorrow

Let the melancholy air succumb to the noiseless atmosphere

Let the lines of frustration pave way for the action

Let the caged spirit arise from the ashes of regrets

Let go of the anger no longer prisoner in the jail of self-torment

Let shame escape grow away from the cuffs of restriction

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

jointheconspiracy

I love the imagery you've captured, particularly, "Let the caged spirit arise from the ashes of regrets."

 

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