Artist

Who's an artist?
Is he a soul lost
In a desert of name and fame?
Or is he a mortal
Who rides his dreams
And ends up at the shore of shame?

Do the tides push him away?
Or does he swear at them
Like he swears at everyone
For he is too afraid to speak
To himself, with or without
The mirror that projects him alone.

What is his addiction
That eats him apart
And leaves his skin for the vultures?
What does he seek
While he gives up arrogance?
A vigilante, of his own burning emotions!

What will they understand
Of the fire that burns underneath
The layers of a few special skins?
What does he seek
As he carries on his endless quest
That keeps faking the mirage of peace?

The ink says he's an enigma
Who doesn't know either
The beginning or end;
The pencil says he's a reality
Not deep enough to stay and
The wind might just erase him away.