Words pierce the soul like knives,
when lies contaminate dreams.
trickling like warm red drops into streams,
they moisten the hopes of a heart
into the putty of a clay makers art.
Sunlight becomes the antithesis of salvation,
where shade makes love to the day.
sadness blows into every crevice, with the dust from the badlands,
where romance and youth were wasted away.
Art becomes itself in the moment the artist has long passed his day.
when lies contaminate dreams.
trickling like warm red drops into streams,
they moisten the hopes of a heart
into the putty of a clay makers art.
Sunlight becomes the antithesis of salvation,
where shade makes love to the day.
sadness blows into every crevice, with the dust from the badlands,
where romance and youth were wasted away.
Art becomes itself in the moment the artist has long passed his day.
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