I’ve sketched a thousand pictures
of you, over a millennium of time
There is a great winged demon
with poison in its veins
and fire in it’s eyes

and horns

The snake in the long grass
morphing into a chameleon
The Greek god, all flowing hair
and rippling muscles
A rose, out of season

with deadly thorns

a Warrior, a Monk, a Conductor
that led the symphonies
of the world into song
A man who laughed
in the face of danger
A broken boy that wept
A knight that charged in upon
a wicked steed
drawing a sword and standing tall
against a world that would do you
wrong

I’ve painted an exhibition
that the world would die for
Accessing the memories of a Hero
only I know what I saw
After so much colour and pageantry
witnessing each lightening stage
It’s hard for me to stand here
Empty
in front of a blank page