Symphonies for a Darkened Canvas
Music is the wine that fills the
cup of silence,
A liquid luxury through
shadowed space,
An effervescent, auditory
guidance,
Distilling rhythm into tactile
grace.
The void dissolves beneath this
rich libation,
As resonant vibrations start to
bloom;
A grand, invisible choreography,
Embellishing the contours of the
room.
No optical illusion guides the
motion,
But symphonies of pure, kinetic
art;
The soul navigates a breathless
ocean,
Illuminated solely from the
heart.
This endless, non- visual
expanse awakens,
Where echolocation drafts a
secret map;
The tyranny of shadows is
forsaken,
Escaping every optical trap.
Through somatosensory valleys,
currents glide,
A choreography of phantom
beams;
The sightless voyager, with
internal guide,
Illuminates the geography of
dreams.
The universe becomes a vibrant
chord,
A tapestry woven in velvet hues;
Where inner luminescence is
restored,
And darkness pays its iridescent
dues.
Beyond the threshold of the
sighted realm,
A sensory synesthesia takes
command;
An unseen pilot stands at the
helm,
To chart the tremors of a
shifting land.
The atmosphere becomes a
physical weight,
A canvas painted purely by
sound;
The spirit transcends its ocular
state,
Where gravity is lost and
freedom found.
No ocular lens could ever
capture this,
This intricate, internal ballet;
An absolute, monochromatic
bliss,
Where midnight dances with
the breaking day.
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