Violet is a Sad Color

When the leaves fall,
And the forests grow damp,
And the sun has set
For the forthcoming night,
When my despair
Reaches its lowest depths,
And a coldness constricts
My sorrowing heart,
I cry tears of remembrance
For memories of what I've left behind
To be washed away by oceans without shores
In the ceaseless change of seasons' time.

I am so perfectly cold
That I have wept one thousand frozen tears
Into these shoreless seas
Beneath clear funereal skies.
Though haunted in my sleep,
I embrace the night
And the moon
Which is wed to the strangest of light,
A light that casts long shadows
Across my sorrowing heart,
A light that sings a chorus
With midnight's sigh and a raven's cry.

The howling wind,
A howling wolf,
Alone and cold,
Keepers of a bitter night.
These dismal moments swallow me
And ravage my crooked spine.
They claw at me,
To get to the old man
Behind my watering eyes.
My flesh is tired,
And I grieve in silence
Under a canopy of stars.

My withering remains
Are dressed in dark
Beneath cold, suffering skies.
I tread along a frost-covered pathway
Lined with blackened graves.
The snow in my heart,
Why must I be forever in pain?
Oh, why...must I be...forever...in pain?
This wretched pain!
Please don't let me fall,
And tell me I'm not dying.
Please, tell me I'm not dying.

---

Originally written:    May 4, 2002
Put online:    May 5, 2002
Discussion:    The title of this poem doesn't really have much to do with anything--I just liked the way it sounded and thought it would be an interesting title. This poem is about an aging person, nearing the end of life, and fearing death. Actually, I think 'fear' is too strong a word. Apprehension, perhaps. Regardless, the poem deals with the grim awareness of one's own fleeting mortality.


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