Black Canvas

Gory Blister

A blank canvas is the widest place
 Where the whole art is standing still

 The sky - to give shape to a masterpiece
 Is full - I need the artist's mystic will
 Of flaming darkness

 To make choices, my sacred toil
 To create life, colours, greatness
 To reveal riches, our decaying spoil

 My artwork were to be the universe
 My artwork were to be this twisted universe

 To draw life, the most supreme
 All wrong, a blind paint stream
 No life, in a black canvas

 There is no chance to pray and cleanse
 The work of art now lives in dark
 Dying planets and black blood
 Created by a failing God

 Here life is to float
 In a gout of black
 Guessing it is the universe

 Mankind - to make the brush a fecund place -
 Was born - to let flow the masterpiece -
 Of black - the whole art keeps standing still
 To perish in darkness

 To make choices, my sacred toil
 To create life, colours, greatness
 To reveal riches, our decaying spoil

 To draw life, the most supreme
 I need the perfect stroke
 But the brush streamed spurts of black
 And the spell broke
 There will be no life in a black canvas