Beauty left in a fade,
washed out from
vividness to pastel,
then blank,
devoid,
whitewashed into
nothingness.

The blank canvas
stares back,
his eyes search the heavens
for answers to
universal mysteries.

And somewhere,
rainbows arc,
a sun sets,
the moon rises
and a wild horse runs free.
The lone artist desperately
paints bleakness,
not even a single tree.