Artist disguised Hunter
An artist disguised as a hunter took his place in the world of man. And although he tried to be fierce, his was quiet strength, like the heat in a boiling cup of tea. His fears led him to believe that his creativity would give him away. For the world of man did not accept the soft scratch of a pen on paper, or the light, loving stroke of a paintbrush. The artist sought to smother the sound of his deception beneath the laughter of associates and CEOs, for their approval would surely initiate his claim. The artist sealed his beautiful lips with shame so he could not sing and give himself away. Although every night he would sing like the nightingale into the dawn, his heart was always somber with the music he would swallow at dusk.
*This feels unfinished but I don’t know what else to do with it.
