Tears of a Portrait

In hollow vast extensive inner halls

I see, peruse, past generations portraits

Oh faces long forgotten

Of memories begotten

Of other lives and joys and fears and straits

It is an anniversary

Of coming from the nursery

My body, soul and hopelessness today

If only doctors had deemed me unwell!

And brought on me all powers from all medicines

Had made me dance the sound of all their symphonies

Perhaps fate would have not imparted sorrows

And yet I stand here bare on this occasion!

Of falling into bitter envy’s clutches

Of seeing faces and, based on mere hunches, 

To deify such long gone generations!

Without a clue of their own desperations!

I see I am a worm of smallest feelings

The exposition staff do, still, observe me

No doubt they herald last turns of the clock

When doors are closed and tightly comes a lock

I better move and shamelessly depart

From all this sick unmeasurably ogling

A jealousy invisible yet flowing

From my one visage static to another

Though portraits’ ones hide their emotions better!

I cross the gates and exiting the building…

I cannot stand to think and realize

What putrid man is walking in my shoes

I am this man whose reason for the blues

Is moral, unrelenting, a disguise

Whose mental faculties will not suffice

To change an act and humble through regret!

To take a stolen artwork masterpiece

Through plan devised by me in piece by piece

Still stashed in hidden shadows, guarded place

To take it back and show it oh I must

I must! I must! To load off clawing agony

Of inner blaring thrashings of mine soul

So finally my truest self can know

Peace!

And still, I hoard it hidden tightly, greedly

I cannot give away the power freely

To bask in all the marvels of the brush!

It is indeed today an anniversary

Of time of birth of me, though also verily

Is also date that I once took hold hurriedly

Of object of a master’s paint and guilt!

Though masters of aesthetics and ateliers

Pale when against those of regret made felt!...

And even though my mouth can say these words

My mind can think these feelings

My heart can take these reelings

What good is all of it!

What good is keen awareness

Of reason for my sadness

Of urging for my gladness

If just won’t execute

The obvious accessible necessity

To make capitulation in simplicity

My arrogant self!

I still give me the gift

Just like on fated day

To find myself a way

To hurt because of it!

My gazes at the painting

Their power and the longing

For no more be prolonging

The pain that I maintain!

Oh, oh but yes the gazes

Are optical blazes

They surely so are burning

The painting and the paint!

I need to hide it deeper

In darker a container

A coffer or a safer

I need a mausoleum!

Just any stout protection

From rigid degradation

That from my observation

My eyes will kill the art!

I must do it again

The previous attempts

Were merely some portents

That it need be done once more!

This shovel in my hands

And silence of the night

As it hangs by my side

Shall be signs thus so spelling

Events here to unfold

Amidst the mud and mold

Embracing us the cold

The masterpiece and I!

You will live underground

My square, artistic lover

The earth is tender cover

You will not die again!

From sights mine irresponsible

You know how I am loveable

There won’t be no regrettable

Corrosion of your canvas!

Loud sirens scream far, distant, yet they cannot comprehend

Emotions so imbuing from a watercolor friend

Of mystifying visuals which can a psyche rend

Torn! Torn!

This heaving, this strained heaving of the dirt to seal the tomb

Devour, earth! The veil of brown this heaving makes a womb!

And may my darling painting find its comfort from the sun!

And from the eyeball lasers that I always ever spun!

You cannot stop it, two law officers won’t be enough!

You drag me to the siren’s scream that I already knew of!

But though my feet now streak the earth

A pulling from four strong arms’ girth

I know that treasured opus shall remain protected!

From searing rays of eyes of mine that could not be corrected!

It will not burn no more!

My eyes!

My eyes!!!