12 January 2013
As I run my fingers over the dry canvas I can feel each purposeful Stroke and the Meaning of each swipe
I understand the Integrity no one seems to Picture in that feeble heart Of yours
I can sense the power Words can't describe And The grinding demotion of the ones around you
The canvas can be blank But your mind paints It with Graceful colors and Meticulous texture
A lonely soul Lies beneath the impetuous piece Constructed of the pieces of your shattered feeble heart
And a hopeful yearning Burning with passion And silent words Sings Through each drop of acrylic and watercolor
I gaze upon exceedingly at your portrait and See a lonely man With nowhere to be But In loving arms Such as mine
The Artist • Opuss № I