Life is always uncertain such as time. Just like
a long corridor with doorways on both sides.
A simple phrase in front of each one.
And you take that fateful step forward,
the door shuts behind you.
All there is a silent
mess of paint and glass. Colors of red, black,
green and turquoise dripping down the walls.
The colors are both bright and beautiful, dull and painfull.
The simple things of before are gone. A true
artist has been here. The one who is smiling, hammer in one hand, paintbrush in the other.
Ooh How sweet the taste of pain to them. Like a sweet oil.
"No colors anymore I want them painted black...... paint it black I dont want to see it anymore."
There smile is jaded, crooked are their
glances. There is no method to there
madness. Like a dumb bull they lean into the walls, turning paint grey.
And then they're gone. The door left wide open.
All the while paint weighs heavy in the air.
What a mess. At least they wont be back.
The sound of glass is the only thing you hear
under your feet. Your heart is pulled down.
Another doorway lies in wait. A simple phrase in