Untitled Artwork Options

[*Blow_Don't_SUCK*]

Paint me a sky of red
Where the sun sleeps under the light of day
Color me a picture of blue
where the water entwines into a frozen mirror of fray
Write me a perfect sonnet, where the crows rest
Above the silver trees, shining starless in a moon-lit glow
Your ink darkens into a black path
Unknowing silhouettes dance upon the streets of darkness

Remember the jeweled sky draped as a blanket of the world
Where you brush upon a lonely meadow
Where the flowers bloom in the coldest of the seasons
And wither upon the sunniest of the days

Each frame stands upon a melancholic definition
An unfinished artwork held by a painter
Whose lifestory told through many colors
Mixing into one path of an apathetic drawing
Where your eyes look upon a frigid motionless scene
An illusion never before seen

He calls it an untitled artwork
Never named therefore never completed
because his life runs through a war of colors
A neverending story of his years
Where a colorless dancer poses for him lifeless
As for his hands that bring to life a motionless scene
An illusion never before scene

[*Blow_Don't_SUCK*]

^Why thank you very much. I really appreciate your compliment. This is the third poem I wrote and I'm glad that everyone seems to be amused by my work. Thank you very much.

[illumineering]

^Why thank you very much. I really appreciate your compliment. This is the third poem I wrote and I'm glad that everyone seems to be amused by my work. Thank you very much.

Amused?
Hell no.

Try enamored, engrossed and thoroughly engaged in rapturous bliss!
This is absolutely marvelous.

Are you serious?
Is this really the third poem you've ever written?