"Through these crimson lenses I see things as they are... Comforting illusions ripped away as I softly play this guitar......

Curious shapes swirl erotically and violently,bright fiery orange and midnight blue. No fairy tales or happy endings I'm left only with what is harshly true.....

The universe cold and unyielding it doesn't care about us....... The least we could have tried is looking out for each other whilst crammed together on this existential bus......

They call me the red mage........ Epiphanies and prophecies keeping me paranoid and on edge......

Of what I experienced nothing can dull the sorrow or the heartbreak.... Sometimes the fates give but more often they take.....

Left wanting love though I doubt I understand what love actually is..... Wandering solitary so long the pain and isolation transmuted into a strange kind of calming bliss.......

I thank God for the few good friends that blessed my fool's journey..... I wish I could have been a better friend to them in turn yet here I sit as a prisoner of my own failings living out rote repetition without an attorney.......

Surely I will eventually ramble on and the cycle will repeat...... Once again walking the winding serpentine road with calloused feet..."