Monday, 19 September 2016

The Artist

I met The Artist many times till now.
And in each time, The Artist shed a bit of himself.
Once She was knitting with a thread of her soul a piece that was infinite.
Some other time He was building a simple puzzle with a piece of his mind.
The last He and She were seen, they were tearing parts of their heart and gluing them with their own blood.

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