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.