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September 11, 2011 / justinbatalden

A man stands alone on a white canvas

with his back turned to the world

Wielding only a brush.

He used his brush to color the world

Creating a cacophony of color and shapes

Moving, shaping, placing the world

to what his imagination could create

Calling forth the hand of fate

The hand of destiny

What others called the hand of god

The man didn’t stand alone

He was surrounded by others

that were taking over the colorful canvas

With their will for power,control, influence

Soon the others were taking over his image

changing the canvas to their imagination

The man’s grip began to weaken

his brush slipping

He gazed upon his confused, jumbled, disillusioned world

His form started to become part of the world.

Showing his impending fate

of being part of this forever riot

The brush fell to his feet

Creating his last image

His shadow that held him

That saved him to his self.

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