Try to conceptualize behind an artists eyes and perception,
Searching for himself losing direction on his road to perfection.
Long hours at night making minor corrections that irritate,
Struggling to reach peace with his piece while he nears its fate.
Liquidating all of his works unhappy with their final product,
Only to realize he's losing money in the business he cant conduct.
Looking for inspiration and hope within the eyes of his kids,
then crying cuz his mind goes to a place where he doesnt care if he dies or he lives!
Prolificly speaking he believes he's holisticly peaking,
Yet he yearns for a perfection that he's unrealisticly seeking.
See the impeccable standard he set is a bar to far in the skies,
He tries in vain to capture this paragon cloaked in demonic disguise.
Killing him slow, the feelin is so...suffocating...provoking,
Trying to rely on his instincts to complete the art he's composing.
Oceanic blues, crimson reds, purples, and yellows on his pallete,
Searching for an unseen color of beauty not finding a balance,
The facets hidden somewhere in the depths of his mind,
But with each breath he finds that perfection cannot be defined.
Forlorn tears fall from his nose, and land on his canvas,
and his eyes begin to see his sadness he had been holding..so hapless.
His heartbreaks are the reds, spread across the painting as fire,
The sun's yellows burn as bright as the new happiness he's acquired.
The purples echo all of the long nights he made it through,
Yet nothin is more beautiful as the color of the artist's blues.
His tears had merged with the colors to form the epitome of his dreams,
and constructed all of the colors and schemes into the most elegant themes.
No more long nights of hell hating his job, no more years of waiting
He learned that with passion alone, he could finally finish his paintings.
When you play with faultless standards,
You better know your role,
Because you cant express yourself,
without a piece of your soul.
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