Reblog: The Artist And His Lovers Doom

I’ve been watching The Portrait Artist Of The Year this evening, and it’s made me even more frustrated that I cannot paint. But, in honour, I thought I’d reblog this piece. Hope you like it.

The artist locked in sunlit room
paints picture of his lovers doom,
enthralled to inspirations muse
it matters not what paint to use.
For image grown on canvas pure
will show the truth of which he’s sure,
continuing ill fated tryst
is more than his poor soul could risk.
But cowards blood pumps through his veins
no strength to pick through loves remains,
so using his creative art
he paints the state of foolish heart.
Will world be shown his finished piece
so granting love’s unchained release,
or will it lie in sunlit room
this picture of his lovers doom.


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