An incredible painting this is,
It’s the artist though that captures my eye,
How could he create something,
That lives on while he will die.
Some sweep the horizons of the mind,
Some master the beat of their heart,
The true artist however
Pours his soul in his piece of art.
He knows no discrimination,
Every color he loves to use.
Even the brushes that follow his song,
Various sizes he will choose.
For him black isn’t darkness,
For him small isn’t useless,
Everything has a place in his world,
High or low is just pointless.
Well so he brings out his very own creation,
Grandeur in its simplicity,
His painting is no longer his,
But rather a portrayal of eternity.
In his painting if you closely see,
You’ll notice a rare symphony.
Peace radiating from every pixel,
Shades of perfect harmony.
How does he create a classic vintage?
How does he capture timelessness?
With the beauty of his joyous spirit –
He wills fleetingness into lastingness!
Indignity it is to call him a painter,
An artist he really is.
For while the former paints for a living,
The latter portrays bliss.
The true artist may not touch fame,
Never may he hold a lot of money,
But content he is to diffuse into his work,
Of that, his every masterpiece is testimony.
His painting will be his graveyard,
But some place you won’t mourn,
Coz who can’t help but smile when they see,
A rainbow for a tombstone.
So the next time you cross a painting,
That captures your very breath,
Think of the true artist –
Who’ll live on after his death. :’)