End.

Blurred vision,
broken brushes,
splashed paint,
dull canvas,
empty eyes
and a tiny beating heart;
The artist was dead
only a lover left, to
count the last beats;
such a painful colorless world
of the one, who always drew smiles.

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6 thoughts on “End.

  1. This is so relatable. An artist with a dull canvas and no colors to choose from…. It’s similar to a feeling I wrote about a few days ago with regards to a writer cursed with writers block from deception by his muse.

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