ramblings and things

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Creation  - Observed

The Artist cleansed his studio, his palette knife
His brushes, then just before he closed the door
Checked that forgotten and unfinished piece
Not quite believing, needing to see once more
Before making his decision about its final fate
The chaos and disorder his Primal Soup had made
Pollution, death, decay become the commonplace.
He wistfully fingered the palette knife's blade
But his neglect
Was the source
He thought
With remorse.
This accidental experiment can carry on for now
Under sufferance, compassion not allowed to sway
The very present likely chance of a destruction
Come the need of a reckoning, or judgement day

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Creation - Observed