The color of our souls

I do not know what color my soul is,

but I can say with surety

That what resides inside of me are wreaths of prideful glory.

Just like the ski, I have my own tint of blue inside me

for that’s the color that’s bestowed upon me

When sadness wraps around me.

A stain of red appears to block my vision

when I’m at my most wrathful stage,

But seems to go away quite quickly.

All lives are hues between pure white and black

from when you’re born and live your life,

Until the darkness claims you.

It matters how you use your heart to color those around you,

But be aware for even rainbows have their own dooméd side

Just like all souls around you.