Pain sparks Art’s complexity. Pen inked by living’s gore.
Greedy ears ablaze with blood. I prowl the winds for more.
Rickety whispers stalked. An addict for morose.
Your fable breathing life to mine. Your cinders lighting prose.
Pain sparks art. A septic fuel, charcoal etching page.
Your facts becomes my fantasy. Your life consumes time’s stage.
Please let me know your thoughts. Critique inspires, whether the feedback is good or bad.
“An artist is a glutton for morose. They do not point the trigger. They are not innate bystanders. They are viscerally aroused by darkness, yet endeavor to cure that which arouses. A frantic pen intensifies morbidity as palpitations are released to the page. As the pen steadies and ink drips dry, so to does the artist’s gluttony. It’s now the audiences turn”
Mind to Unbind