The pain has gone, the deed is done
The father embraces his only son

“Please rest now your works complete”
As he washes the blood off his weary feet

When you awake, take your seat, next to me
Watch the little children, they will come unto thee

I spilled some blood on the bathroom floor, mama,
But I swear it was an accident.
See, my hand slipped across porcelain, mama;
My skin tore like satin.

The paint flowed like a river then, mama,
And colored me a crimson sunset.
Oh, but it made such a mess, mama,
And I know messes make you upset.

So close your eyes, mama,
'Cause you're weeping red and the tears might stain.
Red for your lost love and red for scarlet fire,
and red for the young rose cut from the briar.

Maybe now I could be poetry, mama
The type you wrote about in your younger days.
Golden sun swallowed in carmine, mama
With its last rays dying in a blaze.

I feel it raining,
On a cloudless sunny day,
Flooding only me.