I shall take up my paintbrush
and tint the sky red.
Red like emotions of fear and
dread.
Red like a heart ripping in pain.
Red like a ruby, small and plain.
Why then is the sky red?
Why does it glow?
The answer is simple, for white,
red must flow.
Emotions run deep before forgiveness
is granted.
Before morning can dawn, first comes
the sadness.
Deep in a pit, a gem can be found.
It takes a deep breath to produce sound.
So paint the sky red, let it bleed down the page.
For after destruction, dawns a new age.
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