The tune of death

Maybe its all a dream and I am starting to wake up,

Because I see her now,

I really see her,

Her eyes are reflecting the snippets of our putrid future,

And every time I smile at her, 

it feels as if i'm smiling at the inevitably horrifying pulversied picture of my end,

The end,

But i'm stupid enough to go ahead and dance along to the tune of death,

Because an artist has to paint,

And sometimes the very picture he paints mocks him,

The colors laugh at him,

Self doubt eats him inside out,

And he can do nothing but paint,

And just like that, I can do nothing but to continue to love her.