From The Lab

Explanation

You mustn't gaze upon my canvas
As it is, littered
With half-formed ideas and crude,
Disfigured shapes;
Pay no attention to the colors themselves,
They are ghosts dancing in its background
I cannot bring forth-
My eye cannot detect their whereabouts,
Perhaps for the best.
Shadows and shadows of shadows
Creep throughout, stretching
The borders, enveloped in melancholy,
Pride, and the fall thereof.
Maybe I'll transform the whole damn thing
Into that landscape after all.