Monday, 21 September 2015

Equation 159 : Artist




When an artist sit on his own,
People wondered why was he alone.
People thought that he was strange,
An abnormal living that somehow foresee his destiny
But no one actually knows,
What he was imagining in his mind,
The beauty of it defeat the existence of you,
Right by his side.

When a writer hide in a hidden room,
People wondered why was she hiding there,
People thought that she was insane,
A strangest living that actually believed in what she see,
But no one actually knows,
Each second she was talking on her own,
Lies a story that nobody could ever see,
But only her left to tell the story.

When they were misjudged by impurity,
People wondered their life was with less integrity,
People thought was there even any honesty,
A wittered heart as at the end swollen,
But no one actually know,
In the darkness  & silent they were left abruptly shielded,
There was their self courage to be living for another day,
That only could be seen by faith,
That believe in what they have seen.

(c) Scarlet Storm 2015

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