The Suffering of Art

It's bursting out! This little beast Of joy and pain - My fingers crave To only carve And carve away, At the chips of reality Before my gazing eye. The burn of twigs Pressed to my hands So lovingly held So tightly pressed, Begging to me To bring forth life! As the monsters take My breath. Stealing off the light. Until a shell remains. With a smile, Through the pain- Anguished hands, Tangled things, Of cracking Burning bones. So happy is the world, Restored is the life, Stolen from inside Of a strange mind. Lovely is the pain. That only the kindred Can understand. A worthy birth, My happy child.