Crimson

By Mohana Sreshta

Admist the darkness of the cold tiles and tiredness of

the bold swears, there she lied, lifelessly, full of life

and null of breath. Her delicate form was extremely

drowned in cuts, fawned in blood and pawned in guilt

yet, the glimmer of hope filling her, powered her

diminishing halo.

Her laid body flinched everytime she heard the clock

tick, her breathe shaking to the worst, her eyes

fluttered as if it were the last time, it wasnt, not yet.

The fresh crimson o0zed through the wounds that tore

her, the red capturing more of the floor than she did.

The Caucasian glow off her turned into the paleness

she never wanted. Her shuddering mind recalled all

the words thrown at her, she coughed out the blood

that her heart cried for the only time.

And through the weakening silence of the room that

shattered her, her eyes battered for the last time as

she realised that the crimson was actually her

patience..

By Mohana Sreshta