Children of the wilderness.

The sun is shining
Flowers are blooming
Cold winds have stopped
Darkness has dropped
Bit by bit
Step by step
Inch by inch
Tree of life is spiralling.
The birds chirp a melody
Carmine red paints itself through them
Their canvas is a sky.

Rip!
 What was that...?
A befitting tear cutting through the canvas.
Behold the broken wings of the birds..


Crash!
What was that...?
A sledgehammer penetrating the tree of life...
As it spirals down to its death.

Slash!
What was that ….?
The knife edge on his tattooed wrist.
The Carmine blood running down his slit.


Phew!
What was that...?
The deliberate wiping of sweat from her brow
As the wine she silently sips
With Carmine red painted lips.

Perhaps this is not the
Mood of the day.
Perhaps you expected something
Light and Gay.
But, hey
Never keep poetic license at bay.