crimson bordeaux

so this is it, a sunset the colour of crimson bordeaux
here’s real blood in a glass though
under a sky to raise tears of life in the dead
perhaps the night will stall instead
of course it will rain, washing the memories away
yesterdays and especially today

as you drink to me, what do you know of the times
that passed by your windows, love in so many rhymes
some spoken, most secret, all unbearable
attempting to reconcile, but never repairable
(not relationships but communication)
still drifting through the ether, the frustration

sometimes, it just happens inside
although exasperating, the preference is to hide
looking to the stars could not compensate
rather, turning would better articulate
taking a sip and wondering who will ever know
and so this is it, a sunset the colour of crimson bordeaux

©2008 Hey Hey