When the painting withers
From the pungent smell of life
A new pattern shall emerge
Covering all your imperfections
Your blackened heart
Shall shimmer with vibrant hues
You'll paint in the joy
Never blotching the canvas
Not a smear will profane
Not a splatter will alter
The stroke of beauty
That shall come to life
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
When the painting withers
From the pungent smell of life
A new pattern shall emerge
Covering all your imperfections
Your blackened heart
Shall shimmer with vibrant hues
You'll paint in the joy
Never blotching the canvas
Not a smear will profane
Not a splatter will alter
The stroke of beauty
That shall come to life
