Red Is Blood
Red is blood, sweet Aphrodite.
And weak is the flesh that it feeds
For this I beg of thee: unsmite me!
Passion is red; and so is the heart that it bleeds.
White is purity, bold Eros!
And grey is the fog of my passionate head
This is the battle; she is my loss!
White is verity; and so is the corpse that is dead.
Yet what is the love that cannot die?
What is the love that bears to lie?
It is the love that loves unanswered
It is the love that asks not why
The love that burns, loved unsaid.
It’s the love I love; unrequited.
Zak Pearce's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Red Is Blood by Zak Pearce )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(31 March 1934 – 31 May 2009)
(January 6, 1883 – April 10, 1931)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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