Blank Canvas Poem by Sven Rhoads

Should I be glad that there is no blueprint for me
Should I just walk aimlessly into the oblivion
There is no future for as far as I can see
And the only color in my life is now obsidian
Should I try to pull something out of the nothing
Should I just wait to see what the wind blows my way
Can true beauty and love come out of this constant suffering
Or are things only to shift into a whole new shade of gray

Like a cadaver that sits in front of me
Pale, cold and lifeless it waits
To come alive from the emptiness of my hands
Like the snow blind of December's fury
Merciless with the breaking of skin
To force out the color once my heart begins to warm

All that I have is the here and now
Just a hollow and empty shell
Ruins from the torment behind blue eyes
Tangled in a time bomb of hell
And with the dreams of broken glass
That I am still walking upon
Will this suffering soul find its masterpiece
Or has he been forged all wrong

Should I be glad that there is no blueprint
Should I pull something from nothing
Should I see what the wind blows
Or shall it all remain a blank canvas