Red Is Dead

Red is not for love, it’s dead. The awfulness is such a dread. Blood, the darkest form of red. It makes me feel oh so dead. Life gets sucked from within me Death is thrown deep into me. I glance down at the floor I stand. A puddle of blood, not just a strand. Puddle, bowl, ocean, sea… Full of blood from you and me. Myself, I do not wish to torment, By watching this blood drop to the cement.