In the shadow of those dark skies,
You lay awake.
You ponder more about
The times you failed.
Afraid to close your eyes,
To be sound and safe.
The howling clouds reminded you
Of the demons, you chase.
If only, you would have peeped.
Under your bed, you could’ve seen.
The paint brush lay there, untouched;
Covered in ashes.
To paint their skies.
In fear of their monsters,
Nobody even tried.
The ghosts under their bed.
That didn’t even exist!
Had always been some broken mirrors
Draped in human skin.
Grab your brushes while you can.
Thanks for reading!