Question

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Sore deep swallows in the throat
Red bowl shatters, leaving dents
Sit still on top of one's throne

A shy blue, ominous sky arose
Getting mad type of energy
Feeling thoughts fighting almost

Everything making a home
Molding in'to one cold stone

Flashing so brights from day to
Midnight glowing, streams are
Flowing out of me

Like one big type of mistery
Misery gliding along the snow
A warm embrace, almost as

Embarrassed painted on the
Face things that may seem scary

Answer 1

I wrote a short poem.

Answer 2

It's called "The Triangle Paradox" pt.1