its not long, but think about it.
The Scarlet Tale
a story of conflict, intently defined by colors
the voice of a nation, decided by mutters
the sky a gray navy, with a soft glow of torches
the ground shaking slighty by a slow moving forest
sun piercing storm clouds, devouring the haven
black swarms the white flag like thousands of ravens
what hope had provided, now lost in the dark
and all the blood rushes from your future purple heart
then it finally hits, a downpour of bullets
painful satisfaction for those trying to savor the moment
and scarlet flows....for a second, feels so vivid
but screams fill your ears when there's no reason to listen
its a tale of deception; fighting for greed
there's no greater pain when you're dying to bleed
so much for life, when we're rushing to death
see, colors are obsolete when you're covered in red
and thats the point and truth, but the arrows still fly
and its the same reason why i write on rainbows in the sky
but the scarlet tale continues, more pages stain the floor
there's no reason to fight a battle, when you're already in a war
...
the wishing well's been filled with poison
____________________________
done.