The Definitive Poem Thread of Kriven

[Kriven]

Paint the Walls Red

The walls are white,
Simple and pure.
They speak of peace
Of pleasure

But they lie.

There is no peace
Purity is dead
Let's pick up our wrists
And paint the walls red.



Life Flows Downstream

Flowing
Like a river
Trickling
To the floor
Shimmering
As though crying
Deepening
From red to black
Leaving
Me to die