This is inspired by the book _Marked in Flesh_ by Anne Bishop. Since the events happen on page 40, I've left out most of the plot references, and this is book 4 of a series, I'd say it's not *too* much of a spoiler.
I do have a thing for AABA structure for certain types of songs.
I was told that prophecy worked best in black and white,
That shades invite confusion to the fore.
Though I’ve left the prison-like drabness of my past
Those teachings are still scratching at the door
Pastel tones in Carmine aren’t the right shade for the pain
The colour that I need…is flowing through my veins.
My set of coloured pencils brings me freedom from the blade
For pulling out the visions in my flesh
To truly draw a picture of what is or what’s to come
It must be captured while the dream is fresh.
Pastel tones in Crimson don’t express the depth of harm
The colour that I need…is dripping down my arm.
Colours they brought me are good for earth and water
Field and river change with every week.
Any brown or blue’s sufficient to give the right impression
But blood must be correct each time it speaks.
One page of a sketchbook shows dark shapes I’ve never seen
Another’s filled with young from every town
With tenuous connections to those who set me free
One more displays a slaughter on the ground
Pastel tones in Dark Rose don’t do justice to the dead
The colour that I need…is pooling on the bed.