Didst thou cast thy hope asunder?
When thy heart lay cleft in twain,
Midst the tempest of infidelity
Thy lover, in crimson, layed slain.
Didst thy sorrow consume thee?
In solitude, 'twas solace untold,
Thy life hast been forsaken,
Bereft, thy crimson runs cold.
Feb 21, 2014
Crimson
Robert Horton