I keep my head aloft, from the mist I breath, Facing the demons dancing with me, adamant to hear nor see with a blind eye, weary of clobbering the paper heart inside,
The awe to beauty of graceful strokes, as the brushes defines you the most, tainted with love, varnished with perfection, depicting that deeper connection,
I hear you hum, from the crispy leaves and mellow rivers, the gentle breeze and the arboreal creatures, breathing the calm, exhaling the fear, listening to lush greens, embracing the forest within