A Blank Canvas

I ran across air,

heading for the speckled sand on the ocean’s shore.

A ship’s mast was drawn in black,

ready to take me and never come back.

 

Scorpions on the beach waved goodbye, laughing as my fate drew nigh,

as if it wasn’t mine to dictate nor defy.

The sky glossed over with a dripping purple dawn,

raindrops fell into my eyes.

And my boat disappeared in the down pouring sky.

leaving me on the shore, with naught but a goodbye.

 

Was this rain or tears of which I cried?

Your voice whispered from the other side, “Are you ready to die?”

“What would happen if I said yes?” To this you had no reply.

I sat in the rain and looked up,

at the now dark purple sky.

A hue of pinks and blues had been mixed in

with an artist’s practiced eye.

 

Yet the light had faded, young to old.

Day had passed, and night had grown cold.

I reached out, and wiped my hand across the stars.

The white dots now a blurred scar.

 

Lost in this world, I would not be found,

for at that moment

your smile had transformed into a frown.

Carefully peeling me off from the wood, I see the doubt budding in your eyes.

Your half-raised arm, hoping to save me from demise.

 

A misplaced stroke was all it took, to turn a masterpiece to trash

to have you crumple me up and burn me to ash.

Your black laced lashes could never hide,

the gripping contempt you’ve held inside

trying to escape into what is now me,

and show the world the crying soul hidden beneath.

 

You stare down at your palette of paint, and beg the question,

what is the color for love and hate? Your washed out eyes look into mine,

I want to reach out, but I am bound by these painted lines.

 

And so I wait, and let you decide my fate.

But the answer was already said, by the scorpions on the sandy shore.

Your acrylic tears washed this world clean,

leaving nothing but a new world undreamed.

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