ART IN HELL

Can an experimental soul be forgiven ?
in highs and lows of those who see,
witness the colors and strokes floating,
from galleries in days and nights on empty.
Breathtaking moments, an artist aspires to elevate,
smiling through the pain and tears; it took ages to create,
People admire or appreciate, only a few,
for hate and no kindness always fight through.
Drink your paint and your sorrows,
wish for it from inside to decay,
be the artist that never follows,
Mass media, rosy lies, and grenades.
selling your soul for business,
selling your breath and hours it takes,
to morph into the shade of nothingness,
and become what all true seekers hate.
Keep yourself locked between four walls,
keep yourself crying alone and sobbing,
because we all know, in these days, to stand tall,
is to lie and paint your hell in dawning.

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