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