I’ll chizel this angel out of black dust,

as we sculpt shards ad capture bold colors that will balance death, old and composed.

 Sense a gloriouse monument, an art expirement like no other, an art experiment like glass. 

Feel Free like I do, mess with fiery death!

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Theres a black hole in my heart. Its slowly tearing me apart,

like a asteroid caught in the suns bright gaze.

Like Saturns rigns its in the dark, it has no end it has no start.

 deep inside it’s a labrynth, its a maze.

Confused commets in will dart, lost in time then pulled apart, like long lost moons living out their final days.

Its just like Venus deep inside, behind lovely clouds does hide, a toxic wasteland, wrapped in a choking haze.

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An explosion of color.

Like spidery red veins inked out unwillingly. 

Drying to  deep maroon.

A tattoo of internal bleeding,

A dark bruise of Mashed, dead words.

As I look at the dripping scarlet mess,

Only one thing comes to mind…

“Damn… I wish my fountain pen hadn’t exploded!”

———————————————

My empty silhouette knows how to make an impression.

Looming electricly.

Never demand harmony from that which can scream or you may be shocked to find that not all you terrorize may bend to your never yielding will.

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It’s a canvas full of insparation.

The fire fueling my motivation.

Grab it! Taste it! Before its gone.

A Candalabra lit with hope and possibility.

A Sea of endless unused creativity.

Able to be analized by the best of them.

and taken to heart by the rest.

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