~*~Official Poetry Thread~*~

[Calum]

Ok, this one is about God... and that's all i'm saying because i hate giving away anything about my writing. I wrote this earlier this year, around May time i think... or June.

The Authority, The Artist

Tossed around all her life; somehow she wished she’d never been born, although she realised the blessing’s tide would lap at her feet. She had her own ideas, she thought, about why she was here, on this obscene sphere of driftwood; eternally stranded on a galaxy of illusions. One pinch of her opinion from The Authority’s artistic implement brushed her independence aside with a brash nudge; auric, gleaming in eyesight.

Perched eagerly on her wooden seat, she bows her head in imitation and delusion of peace. Chants of loyalty exchanged but far from absorbed. Death to the heathen, death to the heathen. And the cotton wool around her head dripped with scarlet liquid of his paint while suffocating her very way of existence. The Authority's hand quivered for a moment, bridged between completion and demolition.

Maybe he’s just too critical, but he just can’t bare the sight of an impure painting.