Dedication: To the colour red… the colour of blood
Inspiration: Just a whim… and I guess, the beauty of red
Red drops trickling, cascading over the silken path,
The ghostly face moist with sweet perspiration,
Her eyes, the blue hollows driving out sanity,
Her fingers holding on to her satin robe,
The white shimmering body lay there,
Her hand twitching with emboldened pain,
Crimson lips dried, yearning for water,
Bared hands, clutching glass, red glass.
An obsessed lover, they called him
A mad sweetheart to his beloved,
Yet he cared not, about their puny talk,
Because his world started with her and ended there.
Vows of love had been exchanged
Sparks were young while the current was static
The days were seized, while nights fell
But like she said, "It was good while it lasted…"
Jaded anguish crept its way,
She stayed away for reasons unknown
Sentiment became septic, rationality; senseless
The last thread was broken, the last painting discoloured.
The moon was no match for he that night,
As he peeled her clothes off, she moaned with pleasure
Wine flowed and then did blood,
Succumbing to the passionate love.
And then the jagged edge pierced the stomach
He sat, he stared, he saw her writhe to death,
He lay beside her for hours on end,
His eyes fixed, open forever… and then it was all gone
-Purti Awal, 2004