Crimson

c. Dec 2014

The ebb and flow

Of crimson waves

Is timed to the

Tune of the heart;

Coming and going,

Constantly knowing

It only takes one rogue

For a tsunami to start.

The waves can crash,

Can tear and destroy.

The waves can bring

Inconsistent joy.

The waves can harm

And scar and pulse.

The waves can wash

Away what’s false.

The crimson waves

Last minutes at most,

Leaving a trail

Not unlike a ghost.

The wreckage is haunted,

Hateful and unclear,

While the waves retreat

For the nth time that year.

The damage is done

For reasons unknown

To those who live

In the city Alone.

But the crimson waves,

Now capped with white,        

Are subdued�"

At least for the night.

And the rhythmic tune

Takes over once more,

Looking forward to what else

The crimson waves

Have in store.