My nirvana is this wonderland of white and black,
An empty sheet of possibility, all my thoughts I unpack,

My eyes see cold pixels, my fingers feel a board,
But the palpable essence of a soul is restored,

How could a screen of light bring me such comfort,
Typing these words, from my road I must divert,

With short taps I paint faces, colors, monsters and more,
I resort to my adagios for a softness unheard, life I ignore.