Chorus of Red

In the quiet chamber where time stands still, A chorus of red whispers secrets untold. Each figure, a silent sentinel, Bound by the rhythm of a forgotten song. The warmth of their robes, a beacon of defiance, A symphony of color against the cold gray walls. Their hands, poised in prayer or protest, Speak of unity in a world of isolation. Are they waiting for a dawn that never comes, Or have they found solace in their shared silence? The room, a canvas of stillness, Holds their stories, their dreams, their defiance. In their gaze, a mirror reflects your own, For in their journey, you too may find your path. A path of resilience, of unity, of hope, Where the red of their robes ignites your soul. For in the chorus of red, we all find our voice, A collective strength that transcends the silence.