Moaning, aching, memory
Exquisitely painful to touch.
Why do I reach for that place?
Cease, hear my command
O, ears open! Tormented mind!
Comfort I seek but do not find
Each time.

The echo of the lie
Carries on through time

Lie upon lie in time
- Stain

The filthy froth
The couplet wrought
- staining

Froth the filthy foam

Grief on grief
It is heaped
- stained

Grief, O, grief carried on

SkyWlkR88, I only asked a question about your use of "red."  I didn't feel that you should have deleted it so completely.  Never let anyone intimidate you.  Poetry can bend the rules.  You can use any word in any way you wish.  I was just curious and not being critical.

He was secretly gay
I don’t care one way
Or the other.  Brother!

But he’s the one who
Set himself up as
The judge of morality

All the while he knew
He was completely past
Having to live in reality

All the boys and men
That power can control
At will are never set free.

We have had our full share of ridicule
From the self-assured.
And the contempt of the arrogant
Is motivated by “their own desires.
How can we safeguard ourselves
From following that futile course?
Through love, of course!

Heat comes up
Heat cools down
Hot-white love
Can turn cool-blue

High color rising
On the horizon's line
Reflecting many colors
In a lover's eye

Beneath each new day
After every storm,
There must be a calm
As lovers often know

The salvages have been cut away
And all has begun to fray
The fabric-cutter now holds sway
In the fabric of so many lives

It started with one tiny thread
With what somebody wrote
And then somebody read
The fear then grew and spread

Like some great moth-ridden cape
With in which massive holes gape
Your minds have now been *****
As many fear the ultimate date

When the fabric-cutter begins
To trim, first foes, but in the end
The woeful trim of even friends
When all is cut away at bitter end

Hence, not even he will have the win
Nor protective garment.