Thus, the rabbit was burnt in its rush <br />and thus <br />the lady in red was chopped off her heart <br />there are no avidly purple games among us <br />shall we stand in front of everything, a lake of stagnant insanity; <br />shall we move above eternity, four rusty hands melting to be composed again; <br />we re-see, re-do, re-feel everything <br />how can I passionately be bond to your decoloured voice <br />when impressions are the pantheon of a human mind <br />how can my hands shake when your hue touches my hair? <br />that is nothing more than an alternated weakness, a stunted feather drifted by the wind <br />how, how can I, my love, trust eternity? <br />I am nothing more than an apathetic mass of emptiness <br />I am not being banal for nothing’s sake, I am just being mental <br />when you comb your hair, remember me; I am just the lady in red<br /><br />Katerina Val<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bloody-chess/
