Beauty Lost

(for your birthday tomorrow. i miss you.)

He paints his life with blood, so thick and red;
A man whose life is filled with broken dreams.
The only thing that hears his silent screams
Is chanting, “You are nothing,” in his head.
He looks for beauty, longing to be led
Away from empty words and broken dreams;
A faceless portrait, silent as it seems,
Will scream to fill a void until it’s fed.

Beauty lost.

He looks for beauty only finding pain;
His desperate searching makes him hate his art.
Until he finds a love that breaks his chains,
A man without a face is torn apart.
He’ll wipe away the blood that left a stain,
And paint the canvas of his broken heart.

Beauty lost.