A dark painting is what I see when I open my eyes, A painting that has engulfed the world. It seems like the artist did not use the white, Is it because none is available? Our vile faces finally can’t be seen, In a world so dark where the light is the only dream. A moment is what it took, Nightmares turned to reality and reality turned to memories. The world was his canvas, Red was the colour of his brush. Is it a coincidence which is harmless? Or did hate just paint darkness.
Check out my other poem A Thousand Dreams and some of my quotes about life and love.