Sense Of Art Poem by Lotlot Diaz

I am a slave of art
Cause it was madin by the gods.
It truely awakened
Those who are in clouds
As if they were sailling and float.
Those who are in a no shallow
But deepest dream of all.
Those sleeping minds and sensefull soul.

As one of those
Who falls asleep,
As if it was us who's being suround
By boredom and dullness.

As I finally knew
this thing called art
In my own flesh
Who cleverly flows
Through my bloods thickness.

I knew it!
God wanted all things
To seem to make sense,
So we could all be happy in the end.
And to make tears, pains and tense to disappear
I made up lies
And they perfectly fitted so nice.
And swiftly,
It turn this sad world
Into paradise of endless happiness
And full of art and senses.