A blank canvas is the widest place
Where the whole art is standing still
The sky - to give shape to a masterpiece
Is full - I need the artist‘s mystic will
Of flaming darkness
To make choices, my sacred toil
To create life, colours, greatness
To reveal riches, our decaying spoil
? !,jfecg eh!!mn
My artwork were to be the universe
My artwork were to be this twisted universe
To draw life, the most supreme
All wrong, a blind paint stream
No life, in a black canvas
There is no chance to pray and cleanse
The work of art now lives in dark
Dying planets and black blood
Created by a failing God
Here life is to float
In a gout of black
Guessing it is the universe
Mankind - to make the brush a fecund place -
Was born - to let flow the masterpiece -
Of black - the whole art keeps standing still
To perish in darkness
To make choices, my sacred toil
To create life, colours, greatness
To reveal riches, our decaying spoil
? !,jfecg eh!!mn
To draw life, the most supreme
I need the perfect stroke
But the brush streamed spurts of black
And the spell broke
There will be no life in a black canvas.