Turning

We are fated to turn.

To lose, to cry and to rot.

There will be no time for rest,

No time to take a breath.

This is it, it forever.

We will carry the red with us until the very end.

We want to forget, to ignore and abandon,

But it will pull us back

Eternally.

When we wish for reprieve,

Some sort of relief,

Instead of peace, we’ll only flash back.

To what was and what wasn’t.

What never will be.

This is our story.

The red in the white

Will lighten until it is pink.

But our white that once existed is clogging the sink.