What colours shall I show you.
I have many, but who are you to me.
Are you, my ally. Should I stand by you as blue.
I am not sure the flower likes the shade given by the tree.
The flower gets no space or light that’s fair.
It’s soil is dry for the tree is full of greed.
Too much for it to bear.
Looking down calling them a weed.
Mayhap this is envy green.
Such deep roots to withstand.
Would it be that I scream to be seen.
To have my own grow fat and bland.
No, I do not envy the rot you try to hide.
It reeks corruption and stagnation.
It’s sad to see something I once saw once as pride.
Now permeate with your false narration.
Do you still see me innocent and pure?
White that is untouched by the whims of wickedness.
I know you are no fool, but I ask to be sure.
I will tell you now, I’ve not stayed from Evil’s kiss.
I say these words not out of spite.
I am free from the shade that I can say this true.
This is the flower in it’s true light.
Alas my petals glisten crimson red as your foe.
You have been left to fester for too long and must be felled.
To be chopped down blow by blow.
Until the light shines down and rot expelled.
I dream of meadows void of shade.
But blood must run to feed the earth.
And yours I am willing to trade.
A new era given rebirth.