Troubled minds bend to the will of the depravity that captivates them. Years of longing for change, only to replicate the transgressions that torment the soul. Misplaced love, and rage, become the soundtracks of chronic misgivings. Daydreams and nightmares converge and flirt in the nether of our souls. The night whispers our worst fears, while the day shines and whispers away our fears. Poetic epitaphs remind us of those that came before us. The world spins and burns, yet poetic epitaphs are left to soften the sharpness of life. The young dream of sublime images, while the old reflect on the hardship and pain of the past. Precious moments forgotten in the vestige of our journeyed travels, intertwined in the confluence of naïve eyes. In the end we’re left to search for recompense for a life of wicked deeds. Redemption appears such a burdensome task. Would we change, if we could? Bliss, or sorrow, the walk is ours…..  Why do we seek the white when it’s the red that tempts our desire? Confounded by the dalliances of life, yet we still strive to find color in the absence of light.