They had no clue.
Together as two they created,

but separated.

Leaving a child
broken and wild,
riding the emotions,
sinking deep oceans.

Sin King, the Devil,
paints a painting
with no frame.
Two painters,
but no colour.

Millions of blind viewers,
only God's sublime valour.
A mess to understand,
a messiah undercover.
A God golden clover,
understanding no longer.

Truth riding the ocean of
deep purity,
lost from sight
in immaturity.

Found the frame,
bright white.
A black brush,
the frame's crushed.

Left is truth
of black and white.
God's frame and
Devil's brush.

Child drowning and
parents frowning.
Welcome to the
true exhibition.

Look, walk out, and
continue with your
Devil's mission. Or,
Gain true vision,
simply see.
Be free.

Not shackled by your
own weakness.
Own your weakness
and confess.
See your anger,
seed your anguish,
feed your languish,
be vanquished.

Allow the thorns,
and trimmed
by true sight
they will wither,
yet bloom into
that golden clover.
And,

You will see
bright white light.
You will see,
You.