Caravaggio…ups and downs with paint.

He frequented cesspools.
Wenching and duels
Drinking and cursing
The stuff of crass fools.
Commissioned by rich folk
To better each face
Or show off some cleavage
Those times, sad disgrace.
But then tried religion.
And Jesus so kind.
The saints and dear Mary.
They all came to mind.
What made him so careful?
Had he changed his mind?
Or was it just money?
The bishops paid well
Excepting their cheque book
Could they go to Hell?
Then faux pas, the worst one
And down slippery slide
There’s Mary on death bed.
Did she not ASCEND.
YOUR PAINTING ANATHEMA.
This courtship must end.
Don’t show your face local
To Malta he went.
And never regained heights
He squandered it all.
An Artist must love God
Or truly he’ll fall.