I am an artist of love
and I am painting
a canvas over a canvas,
A colour over a colour,
A vision over a vision
And a scenery over a scenery
Thinking...
That maybe someday
I paint a perfect picture
But every time I tried
A colour merged with another
A knife scrapped a brush stroke
A vision embedded in another
And the scenery lost its form
'Twasn't the one I had erased
Nor the one I had planned
Neither the hues of the past
Nor the ones coveted by tomorrows
But somewhere in the middle
A blend of all.
With the fragrance of fresh and old paint,
A scenery with the meadows in hues of the sea
A morning sky painted like a blue-black starry sky
And somewhere in between the leaching colours
Was my bleeding heart!
Somewhere between the layers
I was standing still in love.
(c) Dr. Prerna Singla.
Dec 11, 2017
Dec 11, 2017 at 2:31 AM UTC
I am an artist of love
and I am painting
a canvas over a canvas,
A colour over a colour,
A vision over a vision
And a scenery over a scenery
Thinking...
That maybe someday
I paint a perfect picture
But every time I tried
A colour merged with another
A knife scrapped a brush stroke
A vision embedded in another
And the scenery lost its form
'Twasn't the one I had erased
Nor the one I had planned
Neither the hues of the past
Nor the ones coveted by tomorrows
But somewhere in the middle
A blend of all.
With the fragrance of fresh and old paint,
A scenery with the meadows in hues of the sea
A morning sky painted like a blue-black starry sky
And somewhere in between the leaching colours
Was my bleeding heart!
Somewhere between the layers
I was standing still in love.
(c) Dr. Prerna Singla.
Published Content.
