The opposite of inspiration

Paint flows across the canvas

like silk across my skin

so gentle it makes me shiver

the caress reminds me

of a time long ago

when love abounded

and my heart flowed forth like a fountain

gushing with faith, hope, and above all love

spilling over the canvas

and into every aspect of my life

like a light into darkened corners.

But all has now faded into the past

and is seperate from myself

as I strike the brush down the canvas violently

creating a scar across the face of the painting

left undone.

Author's Note

Any Comments?