Row, row, row on row
A blackened field, a murdered crow
Feathers shed the flesh to show
The crime that was was theirs to know.
Row, row, row on row
When bones are white and red leaves go
The dead are buried in the snow
And ghosts will walk where they will go.
Row, row, row on row
When corn is tall and patterned so
The burning moon brings naught but woe -
A blackened field, a murdered crow.
Anger is a dark red wall of suffocating curtains, a maze of velvety fabric the colour of dried blood. Hopelessness is a gray bubble still too wet to pop -- Despair is when the bubble grows toxic spikes inside and stabs you. Fear is light blue, a flimsy shield that only makes the problem worse. Boredom is an olive-green gas cloud that poisons with every breath.
Excitement is a cloudy portal into the future. Love is a warmth inside your chest that reminds you that not everyone is mean and hateful. Ecstasy is wings that are invisible because they are inside. Peace is blue, a pillow of safety that is just the right mid-spring temperature.