Blog my Soul

He paints

With love, anger, mercy and pain.

I feel the rush of his brush

With feelings I can’t explain.

He paints.

He paints

The future, presence and the past.

Brushes my path with colors

I’ve never seen that will last.

He paints.

He paints

Day by day and night by night.

While I sleep and while I wake

I am always in His sight.

He paints.

He paints

My path, my choice and my all.

It is beautiful but yet confusing.

Because He draws everything

Including my fall.

He paints.

He paints

With blue, yellow and black.

He paints with colors and sometimes blood

In a living art who don’t know his worth.

As He brushes the gold from the dirt.

It reveals the truth of why

He paints.

I laugh so hard.

So hard that it hurts.

Too painful till I cry.

A cry so desperate to die.

Plainly stupid, crazy and silly,

Are the things which I wish to laugh out?

Not comedy, not humor, neither funny.

But my disappointments I meant to shout.

But what’s in a laugh?

Shakespeare may ask.

A remedy to sadness?

Nay, it is a deceiving mask

Good things are meant to talk about. But bad things… I prefer writing it down.