Silver and Burgundy

Silver like a medallion
But this isn’t a prize
Burgundy roses fall
Falling falling falling

Delicate ice breaks easily
Lights sounds people
Rose thorns out of place
You are out of place

Falling falling falling
Black soot hiding reality
It’s not ready
It won’t desist

Silver makes it
Is it a problem?
An addiction
To burgundy

Flooding valleys under a red sunset
It looks almost memorising
Not to them though
Not to them