The Artists Creation

A picture of one colour, Reflects a cold man’s emotion, He’s looking older each day, For he lived his life for one devotion, And now she’s gone away. She was to him, like addict to needle, Now she has gone, There is nothing at all he feels. His work is beautiful, Its his vision of her, Violent strokes of angry blue, From the faded meaning of self believing, And words once said like I love you. Its sad yet so warm, What is found in his creation, Like a dying hyena weak and forlorn, Teased by his prey As he courts damnation. He lies on his bed and looks out the window, His eyes look dead, Tired and shallow. But there’s no explanation to be found in the sky, You push and push till you break down and cry. Don’t worry my friend, my gifted idol, There’s someone who loves you, But right now she’s hiding