Painting nocturnes in the pale moonlight
On a balmy doggone night
Within me sits a winged child, white
like the brightness of snow
Holding a brush in a crossbow.
The liquid darkness sunsets before me
A guiding power of forces I cannot see
A storm sweeps across the canvas with the stroke of a brush
From jagged clouds, comes arrows of haste and lust.
Come quickly as the incuba of thought is like a dying comet,
Travelling so recklessly in my universal closet
Falling in love with you feels like dying unfulfilled
The mighty whirl of an orb so minuscule.
O just look at those unimaginable shapes!
Confined and cornered in a world it
Over each other with a thousand motions
An intricate web of sound, tone and emotion.
The tempestous dawn came all too effortlessly
Amidst us our lurking vampires burn so majestically,
A prism of sunlight reveals an awful truth
A masterpiece of chaos, a picture of a misguided youth.
I paint therefore I am!