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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

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