Red, the colour of blood,
Of passion, of flesh,
A rivulet of emotion,
Spent...
Red, the colour of creation,
Of restraint,
The seed in her womb,
Conception...never immaculate.
Red, the colour of rage,
Of fury,
Of bodies butchered in war,
Hideous in death,
The caracas.
Red, the colour of spring,
Of liberation,
Pious,
The tika on the forehead,
The bright red of belief,
Of man-woman and divinity.
3 comments:
You didn't send me the link of it. Anyways sounds to be nice. The only main thing which I can interpretate form your poem is that you tried to convey your feelings through red color. Whatever you see,it seems to be connected with red color. But yeah a nice one, you have almost connected to every art of life with red color.
If i have mis-interpreted anything please explain it to me a bit. ;)
The tika on the forehead. Wonderful poem.
Red is not just an colour but it is an emotion, a creation, a rage, a sign of death, a beauty, a belief and at last wow.. Ismita, so beautiful..
Someone is Special
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