R E D

I saw the flame in your eyes and they were�"

�"burning.

***

He.

who stands on a field of angry roses

The wind

Blows and flips his auburn locks

He

A golden bird locked up in a golden cage

In all his

Glory and fame , he is

Poor

Once I had a dream of

Him, who dreams of

An escape that

Is shadowed from

He

I want to

Pull him out of

There and to see

Freedom.

But can I?

Can you

Let go of the dusky

Darkness and will you

Bleed as you crawl

Out

Of the golden bars

Drought the thorny

Roses

Walking away from the

Diamond-stark

Gibbet

To drink of a bloody goblet

Burn the porcelain off his skin

Shriek uncivilizedly

Like a darling

Such a

Darling

When will you be free

Of the sins

That wealthed you

Burn�"

Yourself.