Red is my lost soul,
yearning to be whole.
Red is your luscious lips,
where I yearn for sips.
Red is the sun’s last ray
as it sets for the day.
Red is the color of the sky
when I finally say goodbye.
Red is my return to hell
before the final bell.
The storm approaches the shore.
A spray of water hits my face.
The salty breeze lifts tendrils of hair.
Palm trees sway and bend.
The sand ripples
from the increasing wind.
Birds flee for safety.
Waves crash against the rocks.
The sky darkens to red in its anger,
raining tears across the land and sea.
When will it end?
Once the sky calms,
the sun will shine.
The birds will return.
The tantrum will be over.
