Over a sea of grief Scarlet died,

above her dying mind were fossilfied memory imprints of her favorite day,

for a minute I stayed watching this brilliant display,

until a god with a broom came and swept them away.



In their bereavement all of her colorful friends,

Turned to a milky grey depressing blend,

Which incidentally made Grey feel inane,

So he set off to find a less trite identity,

One as stunning and bold as Scarlet used to be.