Love Poem: [A collection of untold words]

#3: Artist

I stared at my art longingly,
It is empty yet full of energy.
And when I lay on my bed,
I wonder how it started.

I've been sleeping continuously lately,
But I can't help but to design it daily.
Though I feel tired,
I still find time to draw lines.

Slowly, I finished and examine it wisely.
I realize how beautiful loneliness is.
From the sadness seeking for the best,
It may look calm, but it shakes me.

Don't you know what makes it pretty?
It's the lines of present that others don't see.
The curves of our treeline that symbolize the end,
And the eight sign that reflects the eternity.