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Crooked Red Line


Stranded at the borders of perception
Onto a blackened heaven, washed ashore
In voluntary exile from deception
A peaceful mind, alas, a heart at war

A solitary voyager upon uncharted land
Left beaten on the rock, nowhere to go
But to face an arctic map and with a cold and bloody hand
Draw a crooked line through ice and snow

Across the callous fields and valleys deep
Through winter storms towards the mountains high
He carved a path and from the summit laughed
Into the unforgiving northern sky

He came here clinging to a wreckage
Only guided by the violence of the sea
But not content to merely stay afloat
He built a ship from memories and debris

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