The Shape of Red

Distinct possibilities endeavoring to bury self-taught manipulations carried away by the wings of eagles, torn in two by vultures filled to bursting with rust and steel, sustaining dead eyes, maneuvering starlight skies into coal, correcting thee angle, fixing the edge, establishing the door of entry, who can stand at it without opening, the allure is beyond measure. No parameters may be found, astounded by the cosmic architecture, shapes bleed into colors, then to sound, the vibrations morph into matter then fall back to shapes, the cycle ensues, red glorifies herself above all and melts into sound everlasting, her own distinct echo, vibrating faster erupting at the time the others returned to colors, she paints them with her glow, now all colors are red and her song as she evolves from color to sound is a new song, a song that will last but a fraction of time, to now burst into the form of red, beautiful and comely, then within a wink she has dissipated into color once more, never to be caught or seen within these transformations, for who is patient enough to wait, to watch, to be still and quiet, to see without sight, if you do these you will witness this fantastic design, some would believe it torture, some believe it to be love, in symphony, however, it is as the eb and flow of particles of whos behaviour we know nothing, unless we dare look into depths we seek not naturally, it is here we watch the magical orchestra of transformation and growth. Close your eyes, it always starts with a shape and a color.