The living is red.
You see everybody, yet nobody’s there.
A door of light appears.
Before a new outside glows blue.
Everyone’s here, yet nothing can be seen.
Purple swirls till red returns.
A map awaits on the back of your hand.
The End.
The living is red.
You see everybody, yet nobody’s there.
A door of light appears.
Before a new outside glows blue.
Everyone’s here, yet nothing can be seen.
Purple swirls till red returns.
A map awaits on the back of your hand.
The End.
The Abstractionist’s Papers 