These two empty people
are sitting in a room
waiting for their fates to cross and hoping it be soon

Washing off their faces
replacing them with masks
and saying that they see themselves to everyone who asks

Catching all the sickness 
from other people's hearts 
then purging out their own disease by way of tainting art

Everything they painted 
has dried and turned to stone
and soon their hands will harden too as bodies decompose 

Making way for masses 
to follow in their suit
planting seeds that never grow or yield them any fruit

These two empty people 
are sitting in a room 
waiting for their fuse to burn and magnify the fume