Something I came up with on a rainy summer day. This sonnet is open to interpretation, so please tell me what you think about it.
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Scars and Stripes
The sky is still blue
But everything changed
And he doesn't have a clue.
Has all this been prearranged?
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The sky bleeds as the sun sinks
Along with all his hope
And it's like a steep slope
Into an endless abyss.
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The blood-red of a melting day
Matches the stripes down his arm's length
His own life mixed with the other's death
And it hurts, but he must obey.
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There is no salvation, no delay,
There is black, there is white, but he doesn't know about the grey.