Color me Armenian

(Photo: Raw Pixel)

Color me red.


Red as the juicy pomegranate

that is rough yet sweet,

much like the lives of my people.


Red as the innocent blood

of my 1.5 million ancestors

pulsing through my veins.


Red as the sweet wine

poured in celebration

after Tehlirian slayed the demon.


Color me blue.


Blue as the radiant sky 

that saw the rise, fall, and resurgence

of my great civilization.


Blue as Van and Sevan,

whose pristine waters 

are intermingled with our tears.


Blue as the blue bird

singing in the branches,

songs both happy and sad.


Color me orange.


Orange as the tranquil sunset

embracing Mount Ararat 

in all its glory.


Orange as the ripe apricots

blooming in the highlands,

prepared for a fruitful harvest.


Orange as the eternal flame

of anguish and remembrance

burning at Tsitsernakaberd.


Color me Armenian.


Armenian as my steadfast faith

I have kept alive and thriving

for over a millennium and a half.


Armenian as the mountains of Artsakh

echoing with a myriad cries

of profound sorrow and loss.


Armenian as our relentless spirit

that carried us through tribulations

and made us who we are today.

Adrian David

Adrian David

Adrian David writes ads by day and short fiction by night. His work spans across genres including contemporary fiction, psychological thrillers and everything in between, from the mundane to the sublime.
Adrian David

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