May be faded

And when he’s written it all
He wishes he could write

After years of pain, anger, suffering, hatred, agony...
Its vellications of joy and happiness he longs for

After countless stares, its plastic smiles he longs for
After decades of solitude, its delusions of love, he longs for
After centuries of insanity, its imperfection, he longs for
After infinities of silence, its frailty of words, he longs for
After burials of pens, its da resurrection of dat barless prison he longs for
After an era of darkness, its da obstruction of day he longs for
After a lifetime of strength, its human weakness, he longs for

He’s had his share of truths, its fake promises he longs for
No more eternal dreams, its feeble memories he longs for

His canvas, still, plain white,(may be faded),yet, its da darkness of red he longs for