An Artist and his art

An artist and his art

P K Routray

An art on its creation

to its creator satisfaction

is put to public on exhibition

for applause and appreciation

recreating and rejuvenating a humdrum life

torn to bleed in worries and strife

at times it fetches some remunerations

to the needy artists so that his family runs.

Then it travels to a museum

if luck favors and blessings come.

where millions of arts daily arrive

old fittest vie for some time to survive

then it is too hard for them to exist

and then goes to back rack before missing from the list.

A few awesome survive a little longer

then lose to the taste and vanish with its author.

Similar is the fate with the arts kept in family hold

after a few generations they are thrown as outdated and old.

Thus in both ways the art meets its doom and destruction

Never ever thought by the artist sweating on its creation

The history is too vast to remember

the artist’s sentiment, caliber and labor.

My heart bleeds for the artists so easily forgotten

gazing at whose works public once were dumb found and frozen

It is said that the artist and his creation are immortal

But time has always last laughs at the saying with its scythe lethal.