Dear Vincent

Dear Vincent.

I sit alone in my room with my paints and my pain
Much like you did so long before me
I lite my pipe and call the muse in vain
The brush waits for my command so patiently
I doubt my conviction, my skill and my faith
It should be like a shadow, sure of it's path through the day
The needed madness evades my shallow mind
I lack the tools to set my thoughts free
In a prison I'm kept while holding the key
It is me that refuses to set me free
You danced in open fashion without care of who watched
The steps chosen for you by divine command
Muscle and nerve pushing color from within
With no need to be something you could never be
Till the coursing flowing pain of what made you human
Made fate silence the passion with one heartbreaking shot
I sit in my room and feel awe at the shrinking
Only the need to stand in your cast shadows spot
And the strokes that know no doubt
Wishing for just one brief moment, the pain
That made you less mortal and a legend your name
Dear Vincent I cry for you my dear friend
Sorrow for loss and your untimely end
Humanity's missing of what could have been
And the loss of never meeting my dearest friend
I pretend to try and fail again
And shed a tear for us both
For the muse that drives our madness to us
Sleeps and hears not what I evoke
I call through the time that stands between us
and wait for the mad curtain to fall
Dear Vincent I cry for you my dear friend
Sorrow for the loss and an untimely end
And never knowing my dearest friend