I’m cloaked in red
For my sacrifice.
My kin wears white
And true to their fabric
rests forgiveness they project.
I run with colors so real to me
I see truth in the vibrant zeal
Of teal and the pains and chains in pink.
You tell me you are wise?
Let me hold color to your eyes.
She says my colors square me
And I long to be a winner
So goes my battle as the truth unfolds
And my green becomes yellow
And my red becomes brown.
So is my seed that bears the youth
Of my atonement.
She forecasts and showers to me
In blue or is it green optimally?
My feud is short.
I resort to your diagrams and stories ‘
Of colors so mighty yet unscorned.
So is my reality left beneath
The suns dawn and night
Without scrutiny and I release
My plans with your colors
So lustrous as to tease myself
Of the depth of me.
Now I see, My red is actually purple
And my joy presents itself as royalty.