Canvas of oblivion

I fell in love with my paintings, my designs—

Each one a masterpiece in my eyes.

A world of chaos on its own,

Yet I am consumed by my own creation,

Offering no resistance.

Strange, isn't it?

I never even had a masterpiece,

Only wild dreams running through my mind.

A masterpiece? No—

Just a prison I built with my own hands.

I prayed to wake, to break free,

Yet the canvas swallows me whole.

Lost in a world I thought I controlled,

Only to find—

It was controlling me all along.