Of Bourbon and Snow
It all turns to colors that dance in the
Third eye's sight—
Hints of ghostly grey spinning, spinning away
From the ragged breath of rage-filled red,
Into cool blue, tried and true,
Where waterdrops cling like green leaves to the sun,
And orange blood vessels burst
Bleeding...
Third eye's sight—
Hints of ghostly grey spinning, spinning away
From the ragged breath of rage-filled red,
Into cool blue, tried and true,
Where waterdrops cling like green leaves to the sun,
And orange blood vessels burst
Bleeding...