Hollowed Canvas

Some say art is a window into our imagination, a port to our soul A portal that meets the mind and all of our senses Mixtures of raw colors engaging in love to create Names of shades of color one hardly hears of are present Still the eye captures the image and shares it with our brain Least the brain with our spirit and therefore we spit out emotion Perhaps inspiration too leaves our heart non the less we call it art What triggers the mind and emotion to such beauty painted on cloth Frozen feelings with in the frame never again will it be the same urge to create for a different image Imagism floats from the mind and raw feelings from the spirit Least is the love we have for one another is it not a commandment to love one another as one loves hisself Still the power behind such word, one could say it triggers fear to mention Is there integrity is loving and not being lived back Treason the heart betrays your mind Alas the feelings fade and only opportunity remains that someday hope will find faith and love will come Until then hollowed we remain a space fear, affection, and greed fills Please excuse the blood on my canvas I ran out of crimson red Pierced my heart and here you are my hollowed canvas For Alley Poe