World without Art

Solem, sadness, so depressing upon my soul and spirit everyday. To rise up each daybreak only to face the blandness of the abyss. My spirit wearing out the dreariness emptying my being. No joy of color would my world reflect, no rays of hope to shadow the colorless surroundings.
What glee could I reveal void of shape and imagination, nothing to shower on the things that come my way. How could I shine through each and everyday when all of darkness does engulf me?
Never to enjoy the grace of pastels that sprinkle playful upon the days , clashing boldly
against the primary hues of life. Exchanging their shades and shapes in brilliant form, never  to gaze at the sunrise or sunset of any day.
Does the painter of the canvas indulge in colorless oils, flicking drops of hope without form?
Worlds that hold no art, no form, no hope, no passion as all of our possibilities are gone. Love comes from the color of our hearts and paints the beauty of that creation to spread across the universe smothering in form that glows within the soul.