black and red

~~Black is like spilled ink,
Snaking your way against its will.
Red is so defiance filled,
Holding its breath, refusing to chill.
The face of death is pained yet ready,
Feelings forced o silence.
The face of red is stained yet fighting,
A force beyond compliance.

The touch of black is cool and hardened;
The touch of red is shooting hot.
The powers of black are subdued and numb;
The powers of red using all it’s got.

The smell of black is smoking ash,
With sand piled high, a stitched up gash.
Black falls low an smooth, hard ground;
Never complain or utter a sound.

The smell of red is spicy fire;
Burns spread fast, never tire.
Thrust, now thrashing, thrown again;
Somehow it fights despite its sin.

Black and red’s relation
Has helped to build our nation.