Tainting All With Black

Screaming was all around me,

Reverberating in my head.

A harsh childhood made me see,

That one needs blissful escape.

Many took to drinking,

Some lives ended fast,

Soon I went to thinking,

On how to leave this mess.

Paper gleams bright,

When placed in the sun.

The emanation of light,

Blinded my eyes from sorrow.

Tainting the pure,

With ink in my hands,

I drew a dark picture,

Hidden among paragraphs.

A reflection of my abyss,

Left imprinted on paper,

Brought me to calming bliss,

A rarity in the life I live.

A feeling can turn to addiction,

As easily as becoming passion,

Both can create affliction,

If one carelessly goes too far.

But, regardless of where I stand,

On this twisted path of life,

I have black ink in my hands,

Ready to paint a picture.