He lives through his sketches,
surviving on frugal meals,
mostly bread and wine.
Night and day,
are melancholic mirrors,
for him.
He trespasses them,
ignoring the sense of time,
to create a vortex of visions.
Countless albino butterflies,
now bathe in his color palette,
Color-Soaked wings,
now seek the blank canvas,
A Kamikaze of hues is imminent,
for this art to strive
and for the artist to escape,
the meddling reality.