Nebula

I am burning crimson. Watch me run you over and spill your underrated talent. You must be stone to go uncarved. But I am flinching. Fearing you would not survive today because you've stopped living long ago. It's the vessel that remains. The breath that remains. An echo that reflects defeat. A lost that deflects a lending hope. I will be ready when it comes this close.

Are you prepared to watch?