Artist and his demons blues

Artist:
Is he a man? That I am unable to tell you,
but he is inside somewhere in these dark dirty walls.
He takes me down in mysterious cold.
Im falling forever as his wings grow for me.

Demons:
His health wilts every word that he writes.
His mind drifts further of for portraits I implant.
Another piece of his brain on a frame...
And no delight because theres nothing there for him to share.

-An empty look. A flower that never will bloom.
-An empty look. The life departs right in front of our eyes.

-Within decades of misery.
-Its all over now. He is gone.

-Afterwards when the ages have passed
-someone finds the ruins of his dark cavern.
-And such hilarious new vogue mankind grabs.
Artist: Though the smile doesnt fit on my face anymore.