Crimson tide that washed over me,
With gruelling pace, it broke free.
To where life was but a dread,
Not full of miracles, but misery.
Moontime, not serene as it may sound,
Dark and twisted, my dreams it bound.
Once weakened me, this thread,
Agony and heirs, not peace, I found.
But makes me strong, it now does,
Yet carefree whispers belittle it to a cuss.
Time to finally put this to bed,
What’s a change without a little fuss?
Spread to all the word and the sooth,
No longer is my youth uncouth.
Through smiles, tears and rage, I bled,
For life, I fought nail and tooth.
High time it is, you faced the flood,
Let’s paint the world red o’ blood.
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