Wall so that someone
Would walk in his life.
Plucks stars at night to
Adorn his room- he's
Forever welcome for the
Wayfarer he's waiting.
He has designed a
Clock that can transport
Anyone to a new place
At anytime-
But he doesn't want
An easy way out.
The silver ring he has
Designed can materialise
Any wish of his-
But he has seen only
Disappointments so far.
When asked why,
He just says-
I'm a painter that's why.
That he needs something
To hold on and
Anything is true in his
Imagination.
But the reality would
Always be his cold room
With the stink of paint.
Says that repeatedly
And paints an angel who
Takes him to heaven.
Lullabies are in colours
For him and he sleeps
Listening to his shades.
Art is his mother, lover
And the divinity he craves.
The doors he wants
To open or close are
All in there.
To escape or to not
Escape- the line is
Blurry but he has made
His peace-
Lives another day to
Surprise himself
Again. And again.