Colored shapes fill in the canvas
As terrifying forms.
Drawn, all in mixed colors,
When ever tried to beautify them,
Devils kept on dripping down the brush.
Who makes the world weired
Hiding behind the colors?
Are colores the successsors or representatives
Of some terrible truth?
I kept the brush washed
To keep my life from getting colored.
Are human emotions green?
Is Nature green?
Is Nature's green also a guise?
Could easily detect empty emotions on the painted faces.
Let's not color the picture of Life.
On the canvass,invisible forms of voidness
Blossomed.
It is always risky to seek the soul
That throws away the mask.
The risk of enjoyable emotions.
