He held the key to what he wanted to see
destructive or creative was all he wanted to be
black and white infinitely greater then gray
iridescence had no place in a colorless day
The sky may remain blue
for you
but for him
a vein of red bled through
heaven rains blood for those excluded
but somehow his prayers intruded
arrays of life blinked back in existence
and his tragedies evaporated without resistance
now he sits reminiscing on the past
staring at a monolithic sea
of Christian trash.

-r0