‘A sunset’, said the artist
As he put his easel down;Mixing paints before he started
To reproduce earth’s crown.
Blood red streaks of pain
Around a crimson sun,A vision that won’t remain
While indigo clouds convene.
Existing in a fiery glory
Like joy before the fall,An epilogue to the final story –
But life’s not like that at all.
The canvas burned with colours,
A life beyond our reach;Skies blended with one another –
The unity we seek.
A stranger saw the picture
While passing on his way,And said ‘a fine depiction
But the sky I see is grey’.
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