A canvas blank, with hues untold,
A universe within, a story bold.
I am the painter, brush, and art,
Crafting a masterpiece, from the start.
With every stroke, a layer deep,
Emotions woven, secrets keep.
In shadows dark or sunlight's gleam,
A soul evolving, a constant dream.
I've weathered storms, and tasted rain,
Known joy and sorrow, loss and gain.
Yet, through it all, a strength endures,
A spirit kindled, forever pure.
I am the question, and the reply,
The seeker's journey, soaring high.
In this labyrinth of mind and heart,
I'll find my purpose, play my part.
YOU ARE READING
The Art of the Words
PoetryA poetry collection is akin to a wildflower meadow. Each poem, a delicate bloom, possesses its unique hue, form, and fragrance. Together, they weave a tapestry of vibrant colors and captivating scents, igniting the imagination and stirring the soul.
