Acrylic, rose pigment and leaf on canvas
2025
40.6 x 40.6 cm; 16 x 16 in.
— The Weight of Scarlet Skies —
The city wore the sky like a furnace crown,
Where embers drifted softly, never settling down.
The towers held their breath beneath a crimson dome,
As if the sun had set the world itself to roam.
The pavements glowed with yesterday’s desire,
Each window caught the whisper of the fire.
No rain could cool what heaven chose to keep;
The clouds burned red, yet never learned to weep.
The weather weighed like iron on the soul,
A quiet blaze consuming every whole.
And still we walked through streets of molten light,
Learning some storms arrive disguised as bright.
For not all flames are born to turn to ash;
Some simply stain the heavens in a flash.
The fiercest skies are often those that yearn—
A city doesn’t fall; sometimes, it burns.
Acrylic, rose pigment and leaf on canvas
2025
40.6 x 40.6 cm; 16 x 16 in.
— The Weight of Scarlet Skies —
The city wore the sky like a furnace crown,
Where embers drifted softly, never settling down.
The towers held their breath beneath a crimson dome,
As if the sun had set the world itself to roam.
The pavements glowed with yesterday’s desire,
Each window caught the whisper of the fire.
No rain could cool what heaven chose to keep;
The clouds burned red, yet never learned to weep.
The weather weighed like iron on the soul,
A quiet blaze consuming every whole.
And still we walked through streets of molten light,
Learning some storms arrive disguised as bright.
For not all flames are born to turn to ash;
Some simply stain the heavens in a flash.
The fiercest skies are often those that yearn—
A city doesn’t fall; sometimes, it burns.
