Death of an Artist

The phasing of the new

Take your sanctity...

And leave it with your praise...

 

Words have fallen ill

To people that you raise...

 

Who are you protecting?

With the gun smoking in your hand?

 

Who are you accusing

AND WHY DO YOU TAKE THIS STAND!

 

I'VE FALLEN APART!

IT TORE ME APART!

YOU

RIPPED

OUT

MY

HEART...

 

And I'm dying in your hands...

 

 

 

Your justification is so agonizing

Your reasons, so flawed

 

Your memories and your words of choice

IMPURITIES AND RAW!

 

WHAT DID YOU SAY?

WHAT DID I SAY?

WHAT DID YOU DO?

WHAT DID I DO TO YOU?

 

AND WHO ARE YOU TO SUCH THINGS AT ALL!

 

But you pulled the trigger,

You held up the gun...

 

You pulled on the moment

When it was all said and done

 

And I'm dying in your hands...

 

BANG! BANG!

LIKE THE CRY OF CHURCHBELL!

 

BANG! BANG!

LIKE THE SCREAM OF THE DOOR!

 

BANG! BANG!

LIKE THE SILENCE ABOVE US!

 

BANG! BANG!

Like my heart on the floor...

 

And it's bleeding out

Crimson and red

 

Bang bang...

 

...The artist is dead.

Reviews

[Tai Chi Italy]

Not just good, bloody and excellent writing RJ! It is like you are trying to come to terms with what has passed between you. Get it all down, no matter how much pain there is, the artist always finds a path, whether alive or dead! Great work, smiling at you, Tai, hoping all will be well in your world quite soon...

[PhoeniX]

ah. what a surreal piece of work right here. wow...good writing.