Minute

They can't see me for who I am
Because I am nothing that can easily be seen.
Beyond morphed words and swirled golds
I am in the name of your skin;
Before dawn sets and my regrets
I am going to give up my will.

No one ever knows the color of our grief,
And my hands are stained with crimson hell.
But I relent no more as I give in to my knees.

The bending point has light under hot shadows,
Where valleys meander through dark trees.
The shine of their silver mixes with green hope,
And the road is incredibly pliant under their feet.