The Paints of Soliloquy

The painting lowly clings to the wall
Gripping tightly it holds the all
One world, in miniature, an instance
One can dream in

And in that world you can hold your breath
One could float and drift away from the really unreal
And the mundane crap one deals with whether dishes,
Or the perpetual problems arising from chaos
A sweet song will carry you away from stress

That sweet song, that caress of soul relieving...
Could be made from the bones of the world
Like this poem   Simple in reflection but tied to real worlds
Like a visual vignette portraying fantasy perhaps
With reds of the sunset splaying and dripping up into sky
And blues of deep waters floating mountains rising
And greens of people playing in fields of barely seen haystacks
Blurry, textured, transmitting to you all their realness

But in that paint is power unseen
The cadmium can reside in Livers for years
The lithium could buoy up dreams of living
The rose madder could speed up metabolisms
     like the brown from st. Johns wort certainly does
All if eaten and consumed
     Poisonous in consumption
           From the Cobalt waters to the shining sea

           This thing that freed your life from misery
              Could totally end it so dangerously
           By the very thing that took master to create
              In a tube of leaded metal

Isn't that existence