The red scarves

Another poem that I create. It is about colours at our lifes.

They used scarves to tie my hands,
and bind my eyes.
Their color was red as the fire,
in a sun dripping bitterness.

Why should I care about the color,
the moment that I would die?
It was the only light that I saw,
during my life,
the only color that was not coated with darkness,
that my life had brought.