Cradled

As the music plays softly in my mind,
And the sun beats gentle through my eye
And fractures into many a piece,
Regained to create colour.
There is stillness in the blue,
A blue as pure as life, spoiled only by death.
And soon my mind turns the music off
Silence.
But still the colour shouts,
Red like blood seeps through my silent mind
Nothing more than red and blue,
Like paint upon the whitest canvas.
There I am cradled evermore,
The hands of colour stretched before,
To take me from this solemn world
Before my mind was anything more than white, then blue, then red.
The shards of colour like shrapnel hit those allowed to live,
But I just view them from afar before my brief light goes out.