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