I'm stuck correcting the mess you have scribbled on my canvas
Your fingerprints don't even leave an autograph on their mess
They mess to run
The seas I paint, you somehow managed to turn it into the Red Sea
A sea of blood covers my canvas and you're the only one that can fully undo them
I can only separate the truth from the visible and hope they can use their third eye to see past it all
The visible fake is taken so seriously while the unseen truth is pushed aside like a small stranger
I'm trying to find the the real but looking in the visible only led me astray
