I Tried to paint

I tried to paint

For I feel low again.

The dark colour suits the darkness in me.
Just like the way it always used to be.

I tried to paint

But no pattern can correctly describe the pain I feel.

Desperate to find out something,

I held the brush tighter, touched the paper's corner.
And thought of how this pain could embrace the colour.

Suddenly the paper cut a thin line on my palm

And red gushed out with pain in it,

That's what I am made of.
Of pain, I think

All aghast, the blood dripped on the blank paper.

And i knew that no pattern can describe how i feel.

Any better than this

The pain?

It is Nobel, Genuine and Familiar

It is deteriorating.

But I will continue to paint about You

Until the pattern and paper

Start to hurt me too.