Artists

I wonder at the painter
Who works with great delight
Such life upon the canvas
How internal is the fight

Lovers sleep in arms
Stars caress the sky
Demons hide in shadow
Art beholds an eye

Scarlet reds are screaming
Dark blues calm the rage
The painters pallet fading
As a writer take the stage

Sorrows guide a hand
To the hope inside a heart
Laid upon the page
A tortured poet's art

Never quite as clear
As the picture in a mind
Readers passing by
What we thought was so defined

It never stops the process
We always search for ways
To reach inside the chaos
That's inflicted all our days

To compose a piece of beauty
That struggled to be born
As an artist paints a rose
The writer pens the thorn