I am the cold silver light in the darkness. The rattling madness polluting sanity. I am both, I am everything. But mainly I am burdened with truth.
That, is why I am so Afraid of living Why I am so afraid of Not living
Why I am not afraid to die.
I am the lead tainted paint in a bottle, stirring, absorbing the artist's pain. In madness I am used to depict a reality ideal. With every brush stroke, every color, I am killing him, he is using me to **** him, as he paints murals for the masses to alleviate their suffering. He suffers from truth.
He is not afraid to die.
I am a chameleon blending in with the rest of you, Fools, drunk off of false hope and fairy tales I am the paint, and the painting I am the artist,
And I am not afraid to die.
2017 First poem of the year, of my decade, of this new chapter.