12 lutego 2012
The lonely Crow
The lonely crow
Mid winter douses the vibrant landscape.
All glows and colours faint..
All that had colour now covered in white.. a
cold and painfull paint.
Dormant roots now burrow deeper into soil..
Leaves falling like blankets upon the ground.
A canvas of rotten wood... a layer of frost...
In the middle, a pine tree.. atop a crow
His eyes searching for that which was taken
from him..
Knowing it's of no use, still searching,
desperately searching for a way out.
A sad painting... with no life... no joy.. no
colour.
Dull grey.. dead black..
Cold white..
My portrait of life...
A lonely crow on a pine...
A king ruling over a fallen kingdom...
A kingdom that everybody left behind...
It's gates closed and frozen...
And slowly my feathers are falling..
one by one.. I paint the landscape into
dead black
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