Intercept The Beginning

How well do you handle stress?

Red stole the colour from your face
The heat singed the creases in place
Your frown began to crawl around
And fill up your head with sound

The roof collapsed in on your safety
Thoughts of debt crept slow, inwardly
Their black string confusion wept
Filling your brain, a tangled wet

The anger, the frustration surfaced
Reason dropped into your inner furnace
Racing into the trees of fire
Before your final note slipped
Through the strings of death's lyre