The Dark Artist

The Dark Artist

A lone silhouette stands silently in the gloomy abyss;
Here it is impossible to differentiate night from day,
But time is inconsequential in this realm:
The figure is called The Escapist, some say.

He operates with a fierce serenity,
Lost in the jungle of his mind,
An entity half present,
But an entity fully mesmerised.

A smile slowly spreads, for he is the Dark Artist,
The lone sole with the ability to see;
The one with the gift of vision who bears witness
To the beauty everywhere that somehow came to be.

Mister Da****
A far-away voice suddenly cries,
And the magician obediently tumbles back down to earth
With a soft but sorrowing sigh.