Fading Colors

Toying with the ring
Long put by her king
Waiting on a bench
As time was taking revenge
Tongue mumbles some verse
As she approached by a nurse
Heal was old bruise
When she smiled good news
Little of pink was found
On a dull hopeless face

Cradles filled with infants
Saving them from shipments
No need to fill entry forms
Asking religion, sect and norms
Where no one was called insane
When unknown of father’s name
Pockets never seen a wage
Someone was running orphanage
Little of green was found
In a dark world of pains

Four teary eyes
Dripping away the rage
Her head on his chest
His arms curled as nest
Bodies tied so tight
After a miserable fight
Two pairs of lips
Locked in a kiss
Little of red was found
Inside a dying rose


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