WORK OF ART

The colours of love in my mind,
Are so fluid and mixed,
It’s difficult to separate
And thus lucidity is luxury,
The pain is now replaced and tamed

The torments felt like light blows,
And abuse is nothing but a expression of anger,
Heart has long left and gone,
Mind has refused to trust at all,
Now my love is a piece of art

Thou art a man, it will do,
No you can’t touch my heart though,
Neigh could you enter my soul,
No feelings left, and there is no anger to blow,
The fire of Phoenix is turned to ashes

No curls to paint, no poem to perfume,
No pages to fill, there is nothing left though,
There is no one in my heart, no one to blaze the soul
Now you see a complete work of art,
So smile and amaze, I am hanged on the wall