The White Iris--By Vincent Van Gogh

The madness roars

inside me once more

like a lion hiding in the jungle.

I am in the Asylum at Saint Remy again.

A prisoner put there by my own hand.

The nights are the worst

Screaming wailings of terror

manifested in the minds

 of the insane.

I have to paint once more.

To let the madness flow out of me

from the tip of my brush

In vivid colors.

I see the color violet blue

Inside my brain in my dreams

beautiful blues.

In the small garden area outside

I am confined in this tiny garden.

I search for my blue inspiration.

Then in a shaft of sunlight

I see my vision

It is a group of irises

by the pathway.

The picture forms inside my madness.

The bright orange marigolds the sunlight.

The brilliantly violet petals of the Irises..

Pointed and perfect, satisfying

 the overwhelming need

 for blues in my mind.

Lost in my transcription

my madness abates.

I think this painting is beautiful.

The only sanity I can find

In this place of turmoil

It is finished

People are asking of me

 why there is a single white iris

in all the violet ones?

I do not say anything.

But I know it is there

because it is different

yet alike all the others.

and oh! so lonely

just as I am.