What do I think when I hear the word 'wings'? I think of freedom. The chance to fly away from all this madness, this death and pain. All this pain, of losing someone so dear to you. All these deaths of people who are trying to make a difference. Their dreams will never be accomplished. Wings are freedom, your one chance at having a real life, away from all this madness, an escape. No more fighting, watching humans, no, animals, cross paths and demolish each other like rabid wolves. You'd get away from it all.

What do I think when I hear the word 'cry'? I think of an emotion you bottle up to the point where you just want to explode. I think of the meddlesome tears that stain your face as they roll down your cheeks to express your great sadness, fear and pain. I think of all the negative emotions, even though I know you cry when you're happy or when you're mad. You can cry out of frustration or glee. I often think of the agony one must face to succumb to such an action. But even so... in the end, we stop crying and dry our tears, and when we can no longer cry, we know, this world has made us drop all the tears our eyes could possibly cry.

What do I think when I hear the word 'red'? I think of the crimson blood that pours from our body when a wound has been made. I think of the red veins that appear in our eyes to signify lack of sleep or endless tears that have finally ceased. I think of the Red Spider Lily, also know as 'The Flower Of Death'. When I hear the word 'Red', I think of the glowing red eyes you see in almost every horror movie. I think of the first aid sign that represent help and health. It's the color with so much meaning and so much recognition, yet so little is thought about it. Its the color of danger, the color of that stop sign you skipped, the color of the stop light you sped through, it's the color of the blood you spilled as a result, it's the color of the spots of crimson on your car. It's the last color you'll ever want to see.

"Every word has meaning, especially when used correctly. Each word may only be a thread in a sweater, but it helps complete the picture. If every thread was plucked from the sweater, you'd have a pile of string." ~Lillith Tatigani