Studio

Published: September 26, 2022

Smoke from invisible cigars, clouding the muzzle of a useless gun

Creating enough illusion, but not force, to kill me, him, them, or us.

Tears blending in the blues trapped in a colour pallete,

Stretching into the screen, bounding dust.

Demonic faces, reaching out from shadowy mountains,

Saving me, my craft.

The lonely face, in front of the desk,

Basking in dark, glorifying the art.

What do you know of me now?

What of my contradictory heart?

Step closer,

Either everything, or nothing at all, so far.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dbt0OuXlwLM