RED. 16
It was the colour he bled
What ran through his veins
A symbol of God
For those who don’t pray
It controlled every movement
Each interview, each script
It was a mantra, a blessing
It was there when he slipped
He owed it his life
For without red there is black
And in periods of hardship
It fuelled him on track
But red is a danger
It takes what it wants
Without mercy or grace
Without the need for response
So it drains him of power
As life passes him by
And the wounds just get deeper
Tight-lipped comforts a lie
Yet still he conforms
To please the ones he loves most
And fulfil the known legacy
Of two cherished men’s ghosts
Red was what he was built for
A small light in the dark
And it’s presence was heard
In every beat of his heart
It was the colour of beauty
And the things he desired
Whilst in moments of doubt
It left him inspired
Being told that you’re worthy
Of something so great
Gives you hope when there is none
Idle thoughts soon collate
So red is the symbol
Of what he’s not certain
Perhaps a strong passion
Or a careers closing curtain
But he’s tied to it now
And it won’t let him go
He’s bound to the ship
If it sinks he’ll drown slow
Now it owns him forever
He’s been marked by it’s touch
Is red worth selling his soul?
I’ll let you be the judge
