Art is Immortal

If art is immortal,

Then what of the artist?

The muse?

The patron?

If brushstrokes and pen scribbles

Can live on forever

What is to stop our souls from latching onto life

And staying on earth,

As hell for the devil,

And heaven for the angels.

We are the demons and seraphim of earth.

Nearly mortal,

Not quite immortal.

Lest we count the stories,

Spoke by mouth,

Stolen through smiles.

Our stories carry our immortality,

Until we live on forever,

In paint splatters and poems.

If we are not immortal,

Set to die on this earth,

Then we must make our art immortal

So that we may live in a constant rebirth