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Description
Red King // Ascetic Mage
Lost in his own affairs
He was born with mystic blood
Looking up at the humid sky
Watching the clouds condense
He smelled the blood of the earth
Red King called the thunderstorms forth
The jet steam flows at his fingertips
Remembering those who left
He no longer had time to spare
With just a snap of his fingers,
He made everyone go away
Each day was never the same
Whenever his eyes unfocused,
Red King replayed his memories
He conjured parallel realities
Creating scenarios at random
The static of his past
Reminded him of his journey
What else will he collect
That no other soul has obtained?
By dusk, he weaves his magic
To his tower, Red King retreats
Lost in his own affairs
He was born with mystic blood
Looking up at the humid sky
Watching the clouds condense
He smelled the blood of the earth
Red King called the thunderstorms forth
The jet steam flows at his fingertips
Remembering those who left
He no longer had time to spare
With just a snap of his fingers,
He made everyone go away
Each day was never the same
Whenever his eyes unfocused,
Red King replayed his memories
He conjured parallel realities
Creating scenarios at random
The static of his past
Reminded him of his journey
What else will he collect
That no other soul has obtained?
By dusk, he weaves his magic
To his tower, Red King retreats
Image size
3000x2000px 6.97 MB
© 2022 - 2025 LordFrankeh
Comments2
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The poem makes me think of a creator weaving his own stories... The dots and red streaming color at the top remind me of stage lights and a curtain. I feel like he's putting on whatever plays he wants to act for fun.