Unknown Artist

A la tunneling style.

Oh, Virginia Woolf, teach me!

Renée

Unknown Artist 

Pitch dark,

No light,

No life.

An artist's mind,

At work;

With strife.

The ultimate masterpiece,

Plans of creation,

The only source of light.

The only source of living.

Lonesome self;

Own world.

Own bubble.

Pencil in hand,

Perpetual lines,

Sloppy scribbles.

The ultimate masterpiece,

Plans of beauty;

A beeming dot of light,

The only sign of beating.

Up.

Down.

Left and right;

His right hand goes,

His fantasy in sight.

Glaring stars up above,

Shining, twinkling;

"A promise of perfection", he thought.

"And a test for a patient being."

Seeming.

Being.

Pretense

and the truth.

A mask worn,

a costume made,

a heart of stone;

Cold.

Apathetic;

With hate.

Frozen pictures in his head,

Yet somehow warming;

Bright.

A blow to his heart.

A stab in  his back;

A senseless fright;

for us.

He's light.

The creator.

An artist,

of life, love and hate.

Jots and dots of colors,

as the world he paints.

The unknown artist;

his great masterpiece;

we are

complex;

ideal,

yet parodic.

Oh!

Unknown artist,

unknown means,

we all look up;

to the skies; you.

Unknown artist,

enigmatic.

where are you?

Where are you?