Ease.

There's a covered empty canvas
Somewhere in the corner
Of my crude mind,
The obsolete empty piece that has been left
For so long, nearly forgotten.

With the cracked palette,
I began to mix the faded and dusty colors
With the best of emotions
New  found memories,
Wills, make beliefs, and once broken pieces of hope.

Through pain and bliss,
Time through time,
With every stroke of the brush,
While carving a smile, a familiar tilt on my face;
A drive to quench
My thirst of perfection and masterpiece.

Oh, how I long to paint the paper clouds with colors
in a comforting ease and guilt free,

While letting my imagination
Drown in the resemblance of your beauty,
That slips from my mind through my fingertips.

Oh, how I long to feel the calm,
Over a finished piece.

Like a long lonesome highway,
I finally yield before a road sign
With our names stamped on it.

Where I can rejoice, upon a completed journey.