A roof top prison garret of light perfected,

a guilty colour palette bard,

alone with pictures of his mind reflected,

his own judge,jury and guard.

He can never leave complete and whole,

and here he must remain,

amongst strewn puzzle pieces of the soul,

his mind did once contain.

Driven is he by a dark and nebulous need,

a wraith of name unknown,

hoping the next stroke will see him freed,

by perfect shade and tone.

Though with each canvas by daemon painted

he makes the heart soar,

such revealed wonder remains forever tainted,

behind the garret door.


4 thoughts on “THE HAUNTED ARTIST

  1. I like the way the movement of the brush is captured in the photo; blurred as if blending artist/art as one, which fits the poem. We leave something of ourselves in words, or whichever art form we take. I see the ‘judge, jury, and guard’ as his own inner critic maybe? Thought provoking and well executed write.

    Liked by 1 person

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