A painter standing

Tips a brush dripped in koi blood

And dashes off the excess

Before applying a swipe of oppression

On a canvas filled with a traitors jest

He rest his hand in a still life rendition

To a crowd of a white washed plague

A painter standing in ovation

Tearing into another bottle of ink

He is not done tainting this history

A paint brush dipped in koi blood

A canvas of a nation that once was

He makes a mark that may just last

To a crowd of reflective glass