One red balloon

I´m a sunken balloon.
The sunrise illuminates my lack of roundness.
My cadence and my inevitable reunion with the hard earth.
perhaps it is with the ground below that I should make love
 and not the sky princess,
 but red balloons should float!

Perhaps it is with history I should find my fuel for love
 and not the future?
Oh exhaustion holds me firmly in a thousand tones of dark red.
Each one thick and suffocating.

If only a new colour would appear on the horizon
 to help cure my lovesick arrythmia.