Goya's Secrets

Goya's Secrets
I never knew you
And I can never understand you.
You told the secrets of your heart
But you kept them veiled.

You must have known that none would understand.
What was the purpose? Tragedy, irony?
Comedy?

But your secrets are haunting me
Tragedy painted on a canvas
Blank as a baby's life
It could hold joy, or sorrow...
...but you took it and painted your secrets.