The painting
The Painting With a heart full of colours And hands which depict emotions There was a painter Gazing upon an empty canvas He set out to paint his world The everyday hustle and bustle The sun that lights everything up And the stars that speak their own language But after completion, the painting looked different For there was no sun but it shone brightly There were no stars but it wasn't devoid of language And his world had taken the shape of a woman She had eyes with the colour of the skies Hair browner than clay And red lips that would put roses to shame Yet there was something missing The picture wasn't complete For the region of the heart was still white With a transparency that had never been seen Day and night he stood Marvelling at his masterpiece For satisfaction wasn't the only thing he found there He found love along with it But with love, greed set in Making him want to still make it better So he set out with his palette With his eyes focused on the only uncolored region of the painting He decided to fill her heart with colours Emotions bursting out of every detail But failing to decide on a color He used them all, one after the other Her heart took the gentle shade of blue first Then it became a darker shade of red Until there wasn't any transparency left For her heart had turned black Along with the heart The picture started losing its clarity For the eyes had storms in them And the lips green with poison And there he was Staring in regret For what was once his world Turned into an opaque piece of canvas Lifting up his spirits He decided to make the painting a second time But the colors were not his Nor was his heart
Prateek Mishra