the painter

wandering in lands
where storms and clouds
fill the eyes of greedy thieves
and alienated fools
painting what no one sees
colors people barely know
the humble painter
who don't even bother
not showing it's face
nor his paintings
the colors flow into your veins
like a river
it swells behind your eyes
making you cry
it swells behind you chest
hitting every corner
those wrathful waters
it doesn't matter what color it is
it will show the symptoms
of truth