Posthumous Phantasm

A palette full of colors,

Burgeoning in my eyes,

My feelings I could mirror,

In those beautiful dyes.

It was a chaotic passion,

Worked like an industrious mason.

The pandemonium was just a premise,

It inflicted in me, a benevolent malice.

It wasn’t a palace of clichéd verve,

The impulsive fantasy numbed my nerve.

A colorful joy ride of my fingers,

Painted the personified simplicity with fervor.

Frenzied by the creation of mine,

Kept it in my eyes and never let it on any line.

Blind did I become to a dreaming world,

In the reality of my dream, my mind swirled.

Aloft I went sailing in my fanaticism,

Went high and sailed into a frantic prism.

It split my colors and threw me back down,

A cast away into reality and I had to drown.

Choked to death, in the air of falsity,

I am lost in reality and dead in passivity.

Mortal is the world and my passion, immortal.

Life of mine lies in the reality of virtual.

Abstruse to comprehend by the realism,

I am dead but a posthumous phantasm.