Through worn and weathered fingers

The substance marked by decay

Slipping, and flowing in dry and dust-like streams

The remnants of something special

All that remains of brighter days

 

Black is the color and red is the theme

Burning the ashes of all that you dream

Blue as your eyes and as green as your soul

The aura of all that remains untold

 

It falls to cover shoes, cover feet

The ones who rushed to save you

The ones who rushed to pull you from the flames

And here he is with out-stretched palms

Sifting through the blackened ashes

As if he will somehow find you

Even as he lets you fall through his grasp

Like sand in the dessert

Like dust from the floor

 

Black is the color and red is the theme

Burning the ashes of all that you dream

Blue as your eyes and as green as your soul

The aura of all that remains untold

 

~j.d. schofield