Excido - a series
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I. A Duet of Love and Pain
The oceans' scores of woe
And the dead poet's final verse
A duet, mingled with tears of sorrow
The poet's last world
An utopia free of pain
An evergreen lea of love
Yet the words were wrong
And the creation, tainted
The notes of sorrow set in
And the duet of love and pain plays
A thousand and one droplets the pain
And love, the old man's shame
II. The Poet's World
The flowers, blossoming
Across the lea of evergreen
See the beauty
The land of empathy
The days, squandered away
Soon the notes of sorrow set in
And winter came
His world became a barren waste
The old poet, dead
His last magical verse missing
What will happen unto his land
When will the notes of sorrow end?
III. Those words that no one would care
At the corner I sit
With one thousand and more words to say
But no one would listen
'Cause no one would care
I know my errors
They are my shame, my pain
All I need is one more chance
But chances don't come again
I reach out my hand
Hoping for any one to grab me
But all I get
Were those alien stares
So I, like the poet who died
Let my heart bleed, to Sorrow's delight
As I face the walls of my room
I mutter those words again
The words echoed off the walls
They are the words I want to say
But it was unheard
Because no one would care -
IV. The colours called black and white
The painter stops
Looking at his palette
Thinking of the colours black and white
His world was simple
Black like the gloom of his world
White like the walls he face day to day
And then the sun rises
Its pristine white rays shining
The walls around him glowing
And then the sun sets
The gloom of the moon comes in
The sadness in him multiplying
He looked at his canvas
The canvas of white
Pristine and clean
Then the poet's words reached him
And all of a sudden the colours appeared
As sudden as a volcanic eruption
The painter saw the colours
The colours he didn't know
For the whole of his life
The green of the fields
The blue of the skies
At last he can see
Then hours after his body was found
Tightly holding his palette of black and white
The smile on his face still lingering -
So are you the painter?
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Originally posted by DeadPoet:So are you the painter?
A little of two, I suppose.