In life there is art.
Art imitates life.
Life imitates art.
There is art in violence.
There is art in strife.
Sometimes the two go hand in hand.
For there's is always violence in this sand.
Art can be found in combat.
Violence is achieved with this gat.
Pain, suffering, strife, all mired down.
For the violence is conducted on this ground.
This heart, this life, art imitates strife.
Love, war, compassion and hate.
These are the words I regurgitate.
Grieve now, grieve later
For my life is greater for having been the vindicator.
Silly rhymes, bad times and groaning whines.
Combat is filled with art, violence, and broken spines.
For I am art, violence and strife.
Art is all I have, no more, no less.
For violence is my art and my life.