…in this sultry evening, I surrendered all my defining colors. The sense of loss that I felt inside brought me an immense feeling of melancholy. Tonight, my feet sailed away to alleys, and creeks in hopes of retrieving that old symphony. I moved to yellow flame, orange flame, red flame, blue flame and in between yellow, orange, red and blue…but I was only met with words of a midnight-blue with a tinge of a yellow soul. Cold and frozen that hard grass and roses froze a timeless brood. They were wrapped by the pallid arms of ivy that propped the whole city. All there was a miasma; the sulfuric atmosphere of death and hell. The perfection of tonight can only get better without my groove. The tempest-state of some savage crimson carving bears on his battered wings. I can’t wait for the shedding of tears…the shedding of my tears for you when all the fowls are fearfully kept behind the auburn curtains of lunacy.