By Nandini Kanwar
I killed an artist
But it's not a crime.
For I received no sentence
And served no jailtime.
My hands were never bloody
They were purple and blue.
From the pallettes of my victim,
A lingering hue.
And to kill an artist
Is as easy said as done.
For I never needed a knife
Not a machete nor a gun.
For you can't kill an artist
By stabbing them in the heart.
The quickest way to kill an artist
Is to first kill their art.
Replace their instruments with utensils,
Their passions with possesions.
Sell the beauty of their creation,
For your money driven obsessions.
And when writers stop writing
And singers no longer sing,
You'll realise that killing artists
Has become quite the ordinary thing.
And you can feign ignorance
To your truths and vices.
Because we always weaken artists
To strengthen enterprises.
Except money isn't real or valuable
If you look beyond name and stature.
And is it possession or creation
That really defines human nature?
For nothing is ever truly owned,
Only left behind.
For our brilliance isn't in spaces we occupy
But rather in vividity of our minds.
And there's no sight more pitiful
Than brilliance dumped down a drain,
For a civilization without spark
Is a civilisation in vain.
Yet if I kill an artist it's not a crime;
For I'll have the whole system in my aid.
Artistry must be sacrificed for achievement,
For that's how the system was made.