I am not separate from all those around me
the only difference found is the I
and even that, it is thought, we realistically share

Holy yards of hallowed houses of prayer
rise in sublime chants and hymns
at this hour of the blessed dawn
when auspicious shades of light
grace the scabbards of swords
long sheathed and covered in shadows
of figures on the stained glasses

A divided land of long used to darkness
engulfing, rejoices: a saviour rises,
a hero who can unite and heal:
purple robe and the rag, Roman
and Celt: the long suffering realm
finds solace at last in order and justice;
A quest brews, of sacred chalices

In the noble hearts of faithful knights:
Alas, a tragedy in the shadows,
whither, famed Artorius, wise?
Hades schemes to ****** away
your Persephone to Annfwyn afar:
No mortal wounds could fell you alive,
But this, you carry on to Avalon.

Let me paint you a picture
Using nice long strokes
And beautifully vivid colors
And as with most works of art
My muse is the tale of two lovers
Plus one, two, three
Or was it four others
I seem to have lost count
With re-occurrences and all
And their masks seem to blur
As I get lost in our thrall
I tell you love is like a sun
Beautiful to look at
But will blind you
If you stare just a little too long
Unable to see a single mistake
When everything is going wrong
So I paint over the visages
Of him, him, her, and him
But the paint is just not thick enough
How could it be?
When the stain of betrayal
Isn’t quite painted, but carved
When the knives in the back
Sink through to the heart
And while it’s true
That the color of apology
Works well as a cover-up
Only time truly hides scars
And that’s what you wanted
Wasn’t it
Was time apart?
But it’s just not right
That you got to make that call
Without even a fight
You just want to call it a night
So go ahead and sketch the dark
And I will paint the stars
Because that’s what we are
Memories mirrored in paint
From the nights
Where you cried and I kissed you
To the days
Where our phone calls
Ended with I miss you
And I know
You’re not cursed with the memory
People think I’m blessed with
So let this serve to remind you
Of when times were best and
Then maybe you’ll feel some regret
Not the kind where watercolors
Stain your perfect portrait
I’m talking about life changing emotion
So that maybe there won’t be reprints
Sold at every corner auction
I want something hung in a museum
Something people would traverse
The world to see
And when they do
They don’t know what they feel
Because it’s hard to believe
That it’s even real
Seeing love with its contrast
And how you treated it
Like a contract
Made with an expiration date
Set even since our first date
When you gave me that brush
Inspiring me to paint
So that is what I did
And this is its masterpiece
And now

I guess I need a new brush

pick a pocket or
pick a tree
but do
not
pick
me

Some people love to talk
They'll persuade you of anything
Some people love to study
They're always equipt with the right answers
Some people love to draw
Their pictures are worth 1000 words
I like to write
Words flow out of my soul with meaning

We all have one thing that's all our own
A speaker can't study
A genius can't draw
An artist can't write
A writer can't speak
So why are we put in tasks without strengths?

Because most of the time
The speaker doesnt know
The genius doesn't know
The artist doesn't know
The writer doesn't know
The marvelous talent they really possess