Washed Out

Purple is the colour of a flower
in the fields;
Growing arrogantly among the golden
corn yields.
Purple is the colour of a stormy sky
Or a sunset, announcing the black that
draws nigh.

Purple is the colour of his rages when
he's mad
And the colour of her tears
when she's sad
She smiled a purple smile when he came from work that day.
But she saw his purple, and her purple faded away.

Purple is the colour of the bruise
on her cheek
And the blood that flows out even
as she speaks.
Purple is the colour of her life ebbing away.
Purple is the colour of her night
and her day.

Purple was the colour of the sky that day.
And he hid purple tears as they
laid her away.
He followed as they drew him away
And he left his soul behind, once purple,
now gray.