As the light breeze passes,
gently ruffling tufts of hair onto my face,
I lie down.
The prickly, emerald blades
poke meekly at my skin.
My eyes meet up with the blazing ball of fire
which reigns over the cumuli
of the powder blue kingdom.
It stings,
and tears well up.
I shut the curtains and wipe off the rain.
But the sun refuses to be hidden.
All I can see is red,
and all I can feel is warmth.
Basking in his rays.
I hear a blue bird
distantly singing out love songs,
dying to be heard.
The fragrance of the wildflowers
wafts in my direction,
whispering to my spirit,
"Freedom has come."
Eh. Not sure I'm satisfied. All I can see is red? Lame line. Totally lame.