Faith is an illusion of the blind.
Feeling the walls no hand hold to find.
Lost in the realm of trust.
On the empty canvas life was brushed.
Paint dripping transfixed in the air.
Life is trembling it is barely there.
We all fall and fade away.
Iíll wait with you halting lifes decay.
My pictures paint falls upon your foot.
You kneel and wipe the paint away taking with it my hurt.
Paint smears on your arms.
Itís getting on your necklace of charms.
My paint covers your body making you a colorful blurr.
From my canvas to your soul paint transfers.
My portraitís lines were never straight.
But now upon you they begin to radiate.
In pastels of the color spectrum all different shades.
You are Loveís masterpiece in which my mind I have made.
it's pretty ethereal, which i like. the elusive painter swinging from the rafter's of his/her loft throwing buckets of paint at the canvas imagining a love so grand...but i see, or i think i see that the love doesn't exactly turn out as planned.