Father creator artist of my birth
I have seen the dragons that you sketch
Their skin scaly and dry
Their breath like orange exploding flowers
Your power exist within my hands as well
To dream and to shape I am the maker as well
You sketched death in all of its skeletal grace
Woman with strong features and amazing beauty
With your course and worn hands you molded reality
A gift which I am grateful to have
With a word I can bring light to a void
Reason to confusion and humor to sadness
For that I must express my gratitude
And let all know that as a dreamer
The only way I can fall and fail
Is to give up these rapturous visions
TO sacrifice my passion and settle for scraps
This I cannot do I will not do
I will paint the world with my strange sanity
In my arrogance I will demand much
Bullet for Brushes knives for pen
Peace through aesthetic and verbosity
The words may rip and tare at my gut
Force their way from my throat till they are expunged from my body
But they will always be mine
So I must Thank you thank you a thousand times and more