cursed artist

Cursed is this blindfolded artist, Who chose to force his art, With a blank canvas in front, He silenced his heart, With his blood he began to paint, A new emotion, a new stain, Hard strokes of anger and, Soft strokes of joy, But never a stroke of pain, Some resorted to mockery, Whilst some fell in love with it, But no matter what, His eyes could not be fed, He let himself drown in his art, That everyone but him could see, Such was the curse, Such was his misery, He painted and painted, Up until his last breath, The art knew its worth, Only after the artist's death, Only if there was a way, For this absurd curse to be undone, Only if the artist knew, The art was his son.