The Altar

Welding, smoking, painting the marks of time maturing
From simplicity to luxury, resplendence to damage, time plays in flashback, pause, fast-forward and repeat
New and old, fast and slow, brilliant and gloomy
are the ravings that echo of a different dimension
The candles and their flame are a sacrificial ritual that crawl at the feet of time

Like a carbon copy of the Middle Ages, it has shocked the ancients and dazzled the contemporaries, black and white shadows intercrossing in space
Delicate and three-dimensional sketch strokes outline the textures impromptu
Light and shadows flicker, depth of field blur, full of changing emotion
Sumptuous golden shadows, like ghosts
Waver and float in the misty smoke
Oh, the unicorn that prances on the frontier between reality and dream
That graceful demeanor which I glimpsed, might it become a constant of the human world?

The palpable mottle is the haunting mark of devouring fire
The sober greyscale is formed exquisitely and with melancholy
Giving the senses a rich stimulus to document the decay and rebirth of material
Ceiling, floor and wall form the terse plot
The faint golden gleam is like dewdrops on a morning web

Scattered glimmering comets converse with candlelight, fueling the appropriate ambience for nostalgia
The last remaining rational existence is the night azure in the corner
The sapphire velour’s shimmer and soft touch
That luxury and mystery reminding one of the salon intimacy of the 1920’s

Not wanting to be tampered with by mainstream, not changing the will to break free of the fetters
Is this the rumination of the end of times
Or the salvation of one’s conscience?
The artist turns over his thoughts, which are as chaotic as always
Tirelessly experimenting to distill his craftsmanship
Heavy, gloomy ambience paired with compulsive arrangements
The solemn ceremony of sacrifice continues day and night