Only an artists​ knows about
Dancing lights
Lonesome fights
the lurid phase of darker nights
Dead silence
Unspoken perseverance.

Only an artist see through
Real beauty of every heart
In fact, second side of every ****
Everyone sees blues
He remains imaginative toward life's hues
That's what makes him an nightly trailblazer
Inquisitive to self made problems and a decipher.

An Artist feels the dialects of wind and how it cleaves
What it says and how much weight it carries
Every rain summer and winter passes by under the eye of his heart,
Through heart of his art,
If he could feel the way it is,
He can shape up to the way as he wishes.

Methought, it was a game of mind
I gotta know when i by myself entangled
For me, it's like eat sleep and imagine
None next than burning myself on clock's trine
I found peace of day at 3 am
Picture of an fictitious world exist at right burial
Of all animal
Into bed for some time.
If I talk about pain healer?
If I talk about motivator?
What if I talk about gumptional trap?
No, all are lies for you unless
If you don't want to feel, heal or be a muse