بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Red is the color I will always bleed, what flows through my veins, though it may have not have touched the air outside, still Red is what it turns, for being colored so is part of what I mean. Life brings its oscillations, its twins of joy and pain, sorrow and elation, but when I tire of the swinging to and fro', I need but look at what is my self within, to be steadied by Tomorrow. With this ink, I can paint what I've never seen, what I've never fathomed, what only my conscious mind dares to dream, as salve and hope mixed into one same colored-Red pigment. How does the thinker reach across time, soar across space, settle into one faraway mind, and tell what became, of a heart the dreamer saved? We were never alone, our selves were not the guide, it was but Allah Who paved for us the road, from the very start 'til the finish line. I hope she smiles still, enjoying the bright and whimsical, reaching ever towards that Sky, for what awaits her but wings, so she too may fly.