Questions

 

I ask are all seas lazy blue,

do mists lie like purple skies?

Do some soar,

singing sweet symphonies

and others cry,

their skin ripped raw

in the bitter red rain?

 

 

I ask do you recall

how petals rusted like blood

in the rain

and you became

a shadow in the sun,

a whisper in the wind?

 

 

I ask the rose

with petals red as blood,

does your beauty shine

in the light of the sun

and in the shadow of the moon?