Downfall
By Thảo Đinh
Red: the sand, the flesh, the passion
Flooding through me
Is it wrong to have relinquished my overspilling desire for life?
Blue: the clouds, my irises, the melancholy
Draping heavy over me like my grandmother’s blanket
Is it right to sink my back on calming waters and watch life flow by?
Black: the mountains, my jacket, my heart and my lungs
Swallowing, consuming me while I try to wrestle back
If my moral compass was born broken, who has the right to judge me? Who has the right to judge others? Who are we to pass judgment on anyone?
Red blood, blue veins, black coughs
If I cross this river and come to you would you forgive me?
The Trinity Review 