You ask of how I became a twin to my pain
Of how my visage mirrored the emotions
That I'd longed buried whenever night falls
And how I became a beloved and a mad lover
Who flaunts the wealth of these rich words
I paint in strokes
And how I can tell you everything
about what pain is
And every form, style, and type of anguish
How I became a painter
that designs with patterns of agony
How 'bout I tell you the story then
Of how I amassed the wealth of words
and creativity that stands uniquely,
for even in ages to come
These petals shall wither not
nor will they ever decay
You really want to know right?
It all started when my home became a field of thorns
When the place where I sought respite
became an abode of grief
How I found my legs chained and my heart, frozen!
In the...