The all encroaching black has finally won
With only red spilled out amidst the floor:
To be the Stain, the Mark, of all passion,
Which we who view, want after, only more.
From Light to Dark we see the growing storm;
Torrential floods which plague the Artist’s mind.
What we all face from our first breath when born;
A reason to live we can’t seem to find.
O! Yes, the dark ink has taken you home
And now we only see you through your works,
But they have inspired works of my own
And countless more which hidden inside lurk.
And without you they would never see Light
But your inspired Courage gives them flight!