Masterpiece

There in a shack in the south of France Dear Richard endured his years A painter, a God, a beast!Creating with blood, sweat, tearsA beard a foot long dangled from his chinLocks tangled and matted with dirtA grimace adorning his chapped lipsRibs poking out of his shirtSurrendering himself to inward hateFearing people, places, and thingsSevering his hands in flurries of deliriumfor his taintless rendering to be hangedMoaning at spirits, at GodAs he passionately swipes his brushBeating the canvas and his headFor supreme bliss and rush'I would sacrifice allFor a beloved work of art.I would pledge my soul' he said'To paint what is truly in my heart'Emerged a lady with blood red eyesA smirk across her faceAscending atop his festering floorClasping a wooden case'Here with in this crate I hold' she said'Paint in which you can relyTo conceive the most pleasing masterpieceThe expense would be You Die''For when you apply this paint Your hands will flow with easeTo form a piece which the world will idolize.Yourself will also be pleased''However after the final stoke I shall enter into your roomAnd with the cast of my handImpound you to your tomb'With no hesitation Richard agreedWith blood he signed his deathShe handed over the enchanted paintsDissolved in a breathHe commenced swiftly at his workStroking this way and thatThe task was easy and painlessAll day and night painting he satAngels of all hues dripped from his brushAn ethereal portrayal of loveA dedication to his GodFor his appreciation of up aboveHis soul poured out into his handsSwelling into his heartColors mixed to inspireTurning a true work of artWithin a few days the piece was doneAn image of true perfectionHe sat back and took it inReady for his election For he felt his work was done on earth His calling had been fulfilledAnd in a moment or two He was going to be killedA wisp of smoke, the lady emergedWith a fire ball in her handShe hurled it across the room On the canvas in did landHe could not stop it for he was stuckA force seized him downAnd in a wave of firethe masterpiece did drownMoaning, grieving, Richard cried outTo God he did pleadWithin the flames he burnt awayThe lady finalized her deedSad and true the masterpiece was lostAlong with a radiant soulFor a moment of utter joyRichard paid a manificent tollThe reality of the matter is grim indeedThe paints where not enchanted at allSince Richard didn't belive in himselfThis most masterful man did fall Written October 7th, 2001 © on Oct 07 2001 03:10 PM PST   0 • 1