Crimson Red
Let the crimson flow and blend with the clear drops of bleak sorrow
Let the melancholy air succumb to the noiseless atmosphere
Let the lines of frustration pave way for the action
Let the caged spirit arise from the ashes of regrets
Let go of the anger no longer prisoner in the jail of self-torment
Let shame escape grow away from the cuffs of restriction
This poem is about:
Me