Sunday, November 16, 2008

The Distant Lighthouse Shining Away

I have no reason to live, except for my art.
My dreams were shattered years ago.
My eyes are heavy, sad and slow.
My paint seeps from my crippled heart.

My thoughts and feelings given shape.
Laid bare to purge.
A hook for love...

Success today would come too late.
All of my love, if I could ever have felt it, is now hate.

And so each step is hard and hard.
Each breath I give, each second, long;
and every day an end and start.
I have no reason to live, except for my art.