Art

There sitting among the sots is a man whom the wise consider unworthy of thought, his love unworthy of her charm and the gods who sit high above , guarding their pitfalls of error , destruction and lust consider him unworthy of life. they knew his end is near and so did this man . For his art was born with birth of the breeze and shall die in the last flames of the sun. His art is what kept him alive despite the endless horrors of time.

His art was what helped him survive the pangs of starvation.

His art was what helped him see beyond the eyes.

His art was what helped him lift the dark robes of love and kiss the white chastened soul.

His art was his belief in the gods,. that very art which gave him the power to give up the luxuries of life , made him see through the eyes of the gods. And there he saw the most malaginent souls of all. The souls rusted by endless luxuries, lust and lies. Since that very day he gave up his love for the gods and fruitlessly tried to open the chained eyes of hope and belief.

Today, he sits among the sots and celebrates his farewell.