Meticulous down to the dot
the artist of precision squints,
debating what is done or not.

Is something off about the tints?
Perspectives - do they slant away?
Proportions - do they short the eyes?

Perhaps that shadow falls astray.
This composition - is it wise?
The central point - has it been lost?

Perfection sought at such a cost:

another night where nothing sleeps
as dreams pursue what no art keeps
once madness frames a false ideal
and nothing seems as good as real.