Significance of impediment lies on unstable foundations.
Volatile in mind and matter, we'll deteriorate imperceivably,
Until our elasticity snaps, sending severed sediments
Hurtling towards our head, lacerating significantly.
It's impossible to counter the rhythmic embedding of
How we should draw our portraits.
When we don't have the finer brushes
For the finest of desires,
Damned is the aspirations of the
Already stunted artist.
Dare not it allow detractions from motivation,
But search wide for independence, severance
From the malignancy of a life conventional.
I love you my darling, you just know naught
Of how it is I intend to do so.
You may see the blanket of stars
But may not feel its warmth over your world.
Not yet.
Let your sufferance of words important
Splinter your bones until the frame of you
Is revealed.
Only then may you scrape dried paint
From your stained canvas
And make for an art more suited.