Shroud

You search for me in the cracks of a wrecked wall but I find myself in a picture you have once drawn I feel the paint of suffering melting down the yellow mixes with dirty red I think it`s the blood in your glance the green is gone it was still in the corner where you kept your right shoulder I would wrap myself around you to see you in colours like I used to not too late, not too soon I have turned into a shroud but without your image