Blood Red Impressionist

He stands alone beside himself 
To analyse his existence 
Destitute and blinded by his monstrous rage 
His art is his anger 
He wants to show it to the world 
His roar will be the carrier of a sightless retribution 
A vile backlash in the circle of this life 

His art is his anger 
He needs to nail it to the world 
Like a portrait of scarlet and crimson 
To the wall of mankind 

He wants to show you your crippled god 
Your failing take on grace 
Your vibrant obsolescence 
He wants to shove it in your face 
That you and all the ones that you upheld 
Embrace a sordid path 

The art of his anger stirs the darkness in the minds 
Of those who embrace his raging gospel black 

Devoid of all remorse.