Crimson is color of woe
which adorns my
mold that is shaped
by the bitter
caress of wind
and water
Why is it that the
world no longer
sees pain as pain–

I am fragments of love
scattered into the
horizon, to hold me
is to search for
compassion in your
soul–

Mysterious this night
weaves its way into
my heart
as overhead rose
full moon a shade
of dusty rose
inquiring are you
solace, my solace
in the

~Chaos~

the in solace my
solace you are
inquiring
rose dusty
of shade a moon  
full rose overhead as
heart my
into way its
weaves night
this
Mysterious

–soul your in
compassion for
search to is
me hold to      
horizon 
the into
scattered
love of
fragments am I

–pain as pain
sees longer no
world the that
it is Why
water and wind of
caress bitter the
by shaped is
that mold
my adorns which
woe of color is
Crimson

 

Photo credits: Pinterest

Form: Palindrome

Posted for ‘Sunday Mini-Challenge’ @ Real Toads

and Posted on the Poetry Pantry @ Poets United