Poem – The Artist 

In deafening silence she examines

 the portraits of her begoned past, 

surrounding her entity with dark, 

pieces of life lost in every one. 
That what she has painted haunts 

the empty hours late at night, 

that what was sculpted in love, 

now brings forth tears of silver 
Back broken and barely breathing 

I deliver you a matt woven canvas, 

with pallets of joy and happiness 

And brushes of absolute precision 
The artist will paint again, 

It‘s engraved in their way of life, 

paint with your heart, to fix it, 

paint with your mind, to find it. 
Have faith dearest artist, have faith, 

The demons you’ve painted will forgive 

1 thought on “Poem – The Artist 

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