The Artist's Canvas
A work of art, she carefully creates,
With one color only, she quietly paints.
Her glistening brush catches the rays of the setting sun,
And she knows her masterpiece has just barely begun.
Eyes shine as sunset fades to a darkened sky,
And she raises them slowly as if to bid the day good-bye.
The moon slowly rises, illuminating the silent room once more,
The artist's paintbrush never falters, moving steady and sure.
Left alone, her hidden thoughts reveal her mask,
The demons are seen on her flesh-colored canvas.
Suddenly, her strokes are less steady,
Her eyes blur over and her shoulders become heavy.
The painted demons she created climb to her throat,
She watches in horror as they dance before her to gloat.
Watching her "We have kept you here another night" they hiss.
She tears at her artwork and begins to drown in the darkness.
No matter how hard she tries to escape,
they are always there, they are always awake.
She knows they are lurking, no matter where she hides,
they're there, waiting, always inside.
She watches the crimson color she paints with,
As it begins to glide downward, she catches each drip.
The stars in the sky slip peacefully away,
the darkened universe breaks into new rays.
The tears in her eyes begin to flow freely,
as she drops her paintbrush with an earth-shattering scream.
"WHY?" She screeches into the mirror before her,
she angrily shatters the reflection it bore.
Falling painfully to her knees,
she stares at her canvas as it continues to bleed.
Reaching to pick up her bloodied paintbrush,
the sharpened edge seems to quiver at her touch.
She takes the blade and decides to finish her art piece,
soon her eyes close forever, she's finally free.