Don'T Let Go Poem by Crimson Love

Crimson is becoming the Dull somber color of nothing,
Fading upon the brink of all I know,
My words are becoming scarce,
I'm losing everything I thought I knew.

Woebegone Crimson sits on this edge,
Sit with me, we'll contemplate life,
also this Crimson death,
Torement ridden my heart is tortured,
I want to leave, yet something grasp's me,
Your fingers entwine with that of mine, you won't let go,
This has become a fictional fact I've come to know.