Purple

I had written this poem a while ago, and tucked it away. A few weeks later, I heard the song ‘Purple’ by Donnie McClurkin and I was amazed by their coherence. Do listen to the song and enjoy.

The colour of a heart slowly cut off from its oxygen source

of a red flame dying, turning blue

That Colour Purple,

 when I'm cut off from You

Shades of complacency as vibrance seeps away

Purple are my scars, from wounds of conformity

Squeezed in a box that was too little for me 

the colour of my skin so deprived,

From the breezy breath of life

Sealed in that little box that caves me in

~o~ 

I am by the lake in the cold winter morn, treading softly on leaves so thirsty

They had been battered by dreary November,

And seemed a representation of my person

I have found it so hard to let go

To let God take control

Purple were the gloves I wore that day

 When You wiped away tears with my hands,

 fears crushed in Your hands

And then, You whispered gently with the breeze

That You were right beside me

It was the colour of my weary heart

Having absorbed all that was green with envy

Dark, but still attractive to You

That you’d still long for me

Even when I neglected You

~o~ 

Purple clothes me, now royalty

Heir and princess to your throne

A prodigal daughter
adorned in beautiful robes

Now, a beautiful symphony, Purple

Sounds of flutes and violins

Fill my ears merry

Purple is my colour

shining through, in the happiness and pain