Author Information
RED
The furnace burns in the light,
The man walks the night.
The door creaked open with an echo,
The man walked in quiet as a gecko.
Aganist the wall the bed sat,
the man needed to know where he was at.
He walked into the room and pulled the cover,
to find his wife with her lover.
Sharp and cold it plunged in,
poor mouths talking and spilling the color of sin.
A thousand words they said,
of the things that went on in his head.
The room was quiet and dead,
from the color that flowed, the color red.
