-----------A--PAINT--WORK..?-----------
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A shade of scattered colours,
drifting through a junction line,
None appear with broken feathers,
Yet every glance repaints the shine…
.
Within the art,
you'll find the artist sitting blind…
Whispering low,
holding hands of harsh and kind…
Creative blend,
bright on surface, shade inside…
Finishing strokes,
with eyes that carve the blackened lines…
.
Selecting painted hues,
Blue bleeds red through greyish eyes,
Perfection calms the viewing crews,
While textures stitch what truth denies…
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What's amiss…?
why is the heart kept far aside…?
Mind torn,
why is the head washed pale and white…?
Crowded themes…
then why this hollow inner light…?
Blushing lips,
why the tips in frozen stripes…?
Never mind —
sitting on a throne of easy lies…
.
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