Red

Van Gogh cut his ear, so he could hear better?

                                       Red

                   Never, I’ve seen him
                   During the daytime
                   Cause he comes, only
                   In the dark of night

                   As much, as I am
                   Afraid of darkness
                   He seems to be more
                   Afraid of light

                   And when I spoke of
                   My illusions
                   He only said that
                   I’ll be alright

                   Asked him to help me
                   Declined to answer
                   Said he cannot read
                   Words that I write

                   I’ve cut my veins, then
                   Wrote all my queries
                   Red, may look better
                   Than black, on white