We the Artists

A poem attempting to describe the life and mind of the artist.

We are the artists, and
We lay claim to the stars.
         Frequenting the corridors of
         Metaphors of broken hearts.
                   (Never empty of emotion,
                   We dive head-first in parts),
         And we lay claim to the stars,
         And our own broken hearts.
         As we stumble through twisted dreams,
                   Without a backward glance.
         And, like demons, dance and prance,
         Inciting vicious visions
         'til our very last, breath.
Until my own sweet death.

We are the artists, and
We pray for falling stars.
         'Cause only stars themselves could guide us,
         Into our lovers' arms.
We are the artists, and
We lay claim to the stars.
         But, above all else,
         We beat our souls to shudders,
                   To infinitesimal parts.