I see many portraits in my visions.
Portraits of black sheep in division.
Portraits of eyes so deep,
a portrait for ones soul to keep.
Portraits of two hearts collided,
a portrait of a life divided.
Portraits of wise men citing verse,
a portrait of sage ending in curse.
Portraits of shadows with knives,
a portrait of the horned ones as they connive.
Portraits of footprints imprinted in the sand,
a portrait of those footprints washed free of this land.
Portraits of life and blackness of dieing,
a portrait of some innocence, then crying.
Portraits of smiles not to be trusted,
a portrait of a chain all weathered and rusted.
I have many portraits my collection has grew,
a portrait of my life and a visionary portrait of you.