The blue eyed demon

He is ferocious but blue-eyed,
For there is not a tinge of ferocity in him,
Its just his eyes and his brushes that seem ferocious.
Yet he is not your fear,
for there is not a tinge of fear in him,
Its the wild strokes that seem violent.
Yet he is not someone who spells danger,
For there is not a tinge of danger near him,
Its just the colours, dark and darker that seem dangerous.

There is a candour  in his strokes, an unspoken honesty.
There is valour that dignifies the fact as it is.
There is truth that they speak, inanimate yet waiting to be heard,
His Colours add life to lives and ignite the lost emotions,
They speak the unspoken breathe,
They also speak of him, his hidden fame,

The poet is your pet, that he says,
He prays, people claim your talent
And providence be kind enough to lavish him with fame.