Until My Dying Day

Until my dying day, I will gaze up into the blue sky as it fades to a darkness that cannot be chased away.  I'll be waiting for the white blinding glow of an angel's halo to dip from the starless sky, illuminating my face with hope.  An eerie silence will permeate through the cracks of my soul, poisoning my brain, bringing peace of mind.  The halo will continue to drape down the walls of the atmosphere until it wraps around my neck and begins to strangle me.  The angel will then reel me up on her angelic noose, bringing me out of this world of hatred, and into a realm of white shine polluted with peace, ruled by my Creator.

Beauty and Chaos

The World is a painting I exist in,

Yet I don’t even know its Creator.

It’s a work of Art that is never permanent,

Amending itself with escalating beauty and chaos.

I stand in an open field to view

The evolving beauty.  It’s like

The colors bleed into each other

To create an entirely new painting to awe.

The colors of the World begin to melt.

The paint falls to the surface I stand upon

Like rain that cleanses the World

From all its chaos.

The surface is flooding with a concoction

Of beauty and chaos.  The pool’s volume

Continues to grow until my feet are lifted

And I’m swimming in the paint.

The World is looking white

As if the Creator is beginning a new project.

The paint continues to melt until I’m treading

In the pool of beauty and chaos.

This is not the end of the World,

The Artist wants us to truly engage with the Art.

I look upon the ghostly white environment,

And then slowly fall until my head is submerged in the paint.

I’m not fading into the darkness,

I am drowning in Art.

The pool of beauty and chaos drowns me,

Dying in Art and not a World of nothing.