Analysis of The Drunken Kite

How it dazzles in my eye's mind,
and how it slips into her cries.
With swoops and swirls and swoops and swirls,
Into the evening that burns.

Diving into an evening that sears with brightness,
That shies into an opening wound.
Feel the winds of change that soothe,
The burns and binds and screaming alive.

Soaring to new worlds, ideals and...
A laugh to fathom the life reckless.

So now as to hold his above,
Bleeding clouds of red amidst long skys.
To know only its truth.
A denial of pleasure and fractal relief,
So as to embrace a tease of tears.
This pleasure seeks as it swirls within,
A multi-coloured dome of blurriness,
Constantly driving higher,
To undermine a high.

To think, to soar, to achieve,
A bleeding door that does not exist.
So why do we roar to open
a door that we can never open...