A masterpiece stands – god-forsaken and devoted to just one thing .

The elongated arms of an equally agitated Artist with time – he who’s had to feed the weight of his own transgressional soul sometimes

A penny for his every rampant and ill-mannered thought and they really weren’t the most pretty signals of soothing intent in the whole wide-eyed world anymore – helter skelter, bitter-bag and deplorable man of aptly over-entitled agony . As the same ‘sane’ hands envelop and choke

Devotedly – the face of the cantankerous masterpiece of evil which sits uniquely before him, and screams and schemes from narrowly with-in