Drift on the clouds into melancholy

In the depths where creativity dwells

Dip the brush into the palette of my mind

And fill the canvas with strokes of genius

In dim lit rooms and smoky hallways

A thousand violins begin to play

As smoke becomes sky and light becomes moon

Ocean currents move in perfect rhythm to the music

The stars make way for the sun’s birth

The shimmering light and the hidden sights a new world it brings

The branches of the trees conduct the white noise of the wind

And after all this time, imagination is still fiction

Eyes bring the only reality

If only I could hold a mirror to the world and show it its own beauty