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.