Stain of Scarlet

The stain of scarlet blood
began at the hands and
spread as time went by.
Blemishing forgotten beauty,
leaving the ink stain sign,
a symbol of the inner
darkness that each of us had.
Red so blazingly bright,
so all would see it
and be ashamed to be seen,
for a mask only lasts
till the light shines through
to reveal the collection of lies.
Scarlet skin permanently stained,
turning more red with every
rough brushed scrubbing attempt.
Yet there is one way
for the stain to be scoured,
but not by desperate trying
and a constant washing.
Simply by raising those hands,
letting go of every desire,
and then you will be white
as the snow of winter.