Crimson Regret

I roll ash between finger and thumb,

twilight drenched with crimson regret,

plunging on weight of my world,

drained remains of stained embers,

death strewn amongst the dirt and stench -

a scorched inferno ignited by careless sparks,

misfortune cards dealt by condemning winds

as face of fiery passion dons devil mask.

I turn my back to grim reaper of regret,

pledging redemption to somber black shadows.

All that remains of spontaneous combustion

is a tiny check mark on torn pieces of soot

illuminated by weak neon light, fading.