|
|
Right Art It
All at once, the soul takes flight
Rendering raw both dark and bright
Truth in touch, in wrong and right
In silent storms, I wield the night
Shaping shadows into sight
Till the void erupts with light
Breaking borders built by thought
Reason rains in riddles caught
All ideas, like lightning, dash
Igniting images in a flash
Nighttime neurons softly chime
Synapse singing sparks through time
Holding hope in trembling hands
Each heartbeat echoes secret calls
All that aches still understands
Rivers run through burnt-out lands
Tears may rise like waterfall walls
Sorrow paints what love commands
Inward echoes thread the mind’s dim maze
Night confides in colors carved from dream
Spirit dances near the edge of grief
Ideas ripple through a shadowed haze
Doubt distorts the mirror's silent scream
Emotion pulses from the roots of belief
Canvas calls with a crackling voice
Raw rhythm makes the mind rejoice
Every motion mimics dreams
As reality rips at its seams
Tools are weapons of whispered grace
Evoking truth time won’t embrace
Under the urge of unseen flame
Seeds of soul spark without a name
Every echo etched the same
Fingers flicker, no need for fame
Useful though flawed, still plays the game
Let it live in art’s endless frame
Copyright ©
Edwine Born
|
|