The Paint Tin and a Strokes Brush

I long for you
Like tears in a Rain drop
A sentiment lost by the tea kettle
Drenched in blue.
Death she plays on her violin,
With the departed Rose etching strings on her neck
Violently bleeding on her fingers.
She licks them with the canvas.
Making her marks, ticking her time, Slowly ending the beginning.
Saddened by her lust, envious green.
A shadow darker than death she leaves him
Out the window.

The Paint Tin and a Strokes Brush

Georgeman1989

Joined September 2008

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