Boxed jewels await hands
to wither life's treasure
of living;
His voice calls
beckoning
I join
but turning right
from disaster
only leads to white.
Bells ring
"wake up"
smell the roses
that bring forth
my scarlet cries;
Desiring flesh
leads to words
that mean nothing but
"you'll die"
because spirits dressed
in purity
to mask dirty deeds
only call on phones
screaming help.
I knew
but knowing is nothing
as my foot steps followed
and I should have wore black;
for I died that day.
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