May 2018
What happened?
To that fragile moment we held tight in our heats?
Red glorious ribbons of Fate.
The quiet comfort of long nights
Pulled apart, worn by age,
In which we talked.
They lie dirtied on the ground.
Till Dawn whispered to the stars,
As they left, her tears washed it all away.
To that fragile moment we held tight in our heats?
Red glorious ribbons of Fate.
The quiet comfort of long nights
Pulled apart, worn by age,
In which we talked.
They lie dirtied on the ground.
Till Dawn whispered to the stars,
As they left, her tears washed it all away.
I forget where the idea of red ribbons came from, but I enjoy the idea of people being romantically linked by them. But when it falls apart that's where the imagery can really come alive in a way.
