My eyes and glasses tinted pink,

Palms smeared and stained with ink,

My wrist now in each twist aches

Trying to catch a declared fake.

Desperate needs to desperate calls—

Seen by no one but loved by all,

Devotion that has one draw a sword,

Despair disguised as love and word.

No call returned, no painting stays,

Blindly we shall follow your ways,

Never to question, not even dare,

The wisdom that you brought to share

So heed my calls and return my words,

For this painting is to be left undone,

My arms will long have left your faith,