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An artists loses all His inspiration to create...until... |
I was silently working in my Room with my Pallete and Colors Searching for a way to get rid from my Horrors However, the Hours went by and canvas was still white As my mind felt like a desert in a hot Summer Night I was tired of searching for the light of Inspiration Tired of staring at my face in the mirror in great Deception The years have passed and still couldnt create Because my muse was Taken Away My hear hasnt Beated for a single since that Day And i havent feel alive or happy, i have only felt pure Dismay I heard someone knocking at my door There was something who i wasnt expecting at all It was the old lady, the landlord of my floor She was angry and told me "Stop Crying" Banging her cane to the door I let her in, but while i was looking for some Cash A horrible sound came from the room, the one with all my art The old hag took some Whiskey and Liquor from my Shelf And the Lady started to say "You art is trash from Hell You are a Cheap painter, there is no doubt about that No wonder your wife left you for that other Guy" That was the last thing the bitch could say After that, i threw a knife right at her face Blood covered the canvas and carpets and it was spilling all over the place I took the corpse and dipped it in Cement After that i cutted her Head and putted it on Display I painted it with the colors of my Madness and my rage... If i could go back and tell myself The depts of my punishment that i would have recieve in Hell The souls screaming for what i did and my success The night hearing the Screams from the bottom of my Bed May god forgive me, but i know it´s too late This wasnt the last time i used my silver blade against those who told me i was Insane Maybe you think "Well they are right" Well i got a little thing to say "So do i" |