What a beautiful thing it is !
A Canvas that speaks a lot
Wow ! an artist’s soul
That try to speak a lot
From the window of canvas
To the doors of sky
Till the depth of ocean
In the romancing moonlight
And spreading its vastness
As the fragrance
Of night blooms
Until the sunrise
Again from morning dews
To chirping birds
Snowy mountains
To windy breeze
A moving cloud
And even from rain to rainbow
All is possible
With the tip of a brush
Is a marvellous thing
That depicts an artist’s heart

An art is a creation
Of an artist
Which is made
In different colours
With different paints
And in different shades
But all in one canvas
Makes an effective painting
Which can never die
As an artist’s soul
That is lightning forever
As a magical lantern

Some paintings speaks a lot
Like stories to us
When it starts speaking
The whole image depicts
It’s originality
As an original photo
Of some place
And that really can lost us
Somewhere as in the canvas

Even eyes of a portrait
Speaks a lot
When we stare in that eyes
It seems as the person is gazing
As a living person is standing in front of us
Which feels like a real photo
And it really makes
An unbelievable painting
Which is like giving life
To the non living thing
Within the canvas
By an artist
Or like a flower bloomed
In the hands of an artist

Canvas that speaks a lot
Really shows true heart
Of an artist’s creation
A beautiful creation
By ones own hands
Mesmerise all of us
With no time
Like an original picture
Taken with a camera
Of high resolution
Is something to adore
With the hearts of love

Canvas that speaks a lot
Is a graceful creation
That makes us wonder
Which is a miracle
In hands of an artist
That remains its effect
For life time
And that make
An artist
Different from others

Canvas that speaks a lot
Is a creation of art
When an artist starts
To move his hand on canvas
It starts to speak a lot
From the sincerity of love
To the beauty of a nature
Sparkling eyes of a human
And the depth of a sea
All that beautiful creation
Of Godly things
Is once more painted
With the help of an artist’s brush
Is something that speaks
For a lifetime
With thousands of words
In one image
Is an exemplary
Creation of humane
In a canvas

Canvas that speaks a lot
With voice of heart
Beats in every hearts
And in all eras

An artist is like a lantern
That lightens other lights
And a canvas is a mirror
Of an artist’s soul
That reflects the lights  
For lifetime
Which was once lit
By an artist
With a great deal
Who was owned
By an eloquent soul.

As summer fades
Fall has begun
Our once bright days
Now setting Sun
Uncertain what the future holds
Just know that I am getting old
For youth one does not get to keep
Through window blinds of life I peek
A path that's been filled with mistakes
I've walked alone but chose to take
My baggage with me where I went
Much money earned; much money spent
An epic track that seemed to reach
Earth's corners as I search and seek
For happiness with love and joy
These things I lost when just a boy
Were taken; someone stole from me
No safe to crack; there was no key
Defenses were not set in place
A child who had yet to face
Like Adam when bereft of sin
Attack that had struck from within
Where body fully left in tact
A shattered mind you won't get back
And over shoulders look for pieces
Equaled grains of sand on beaches
Traveled much, went far and wide
Blind to the circles spun inside
If challenges aren't met and faced
One can't expect to win a race
In life, with loss comes also gain
For cost brings lessons for our brain
All adding up to wisdom learned
So as time goes we can discern
This is the trade for youth with age
In our "life book" we write a page
Our bodies start becoming meek
Does not mean outlook that is bleak
As faculties get old and fail
Some ways our vessel is a jail
The footsteps made are less and less
But minds expand an endless breadth
A question though of great concern
is, What if someone never learns?
They pay the price; accept the cost
But in return there's only loss
There's no trade off or benefit
An idiot who is a twit
You'd almost feel some sympathy
For one pathetic and who's weak
Unless of course you realize
The suit he wears; tried on for size
No twisted arms; he was not fooled
All info given; went to school
Just sat and stared off into space
So much potential he would waste
Break-even point, where are you at?
Is it still forward or way back
There comes a point, true with all things
Sometimes it hurts the heart and stings
We realize the end has come
There's nothing more that can be done
All effort from here on, a waste
The money spent is better saved
Don't think of it as giving up
More simply that one's time is up
Life is a journey that's for sure
But may be one that is endured
Instead of riding off in glory
Constantly are saying "sorry"
Trying to right each mistake
There is no life; an endless chase
A dog who tries to catch his tail
A nonstop game of "try-and-fail"
You ask "Why should I even try?"
Pathetic tears to say 'goodbye'
I have one choice that I can make
That will erase all my mistakes
If I'm not here I can't ***** up
Forget "half-empty", there's no cup
The disappointment and the shame
No longer need to play that game
Sure people might feel bad at first
But don't forget; somehow subvert
In closing I can finally be
What all expected me to be
A hero or a champ who "wins"
Not loser who just fails and sins
So tears don't cry (and you may not)
I'd say that I had fought the fought
But you know that is one more lie
Don't need to add; just say 'goodbye'

I'll watch them
Appreciate them from afar
To tell them my feelings
Would be ridiculous
Because I am not in love
I probably never will be

I'll watch them
Their blue grey hair
Their blue green eyes
I might got lost
When they're locked on mine
But I know full well
And I keep it to myself
That it doesn't mean a thing

I'll watch them
The painting behind my eyes
The first thing I see
The last before I fall asleep at night
Fondly sketched
Tattooed into my spine
But nothing here is permanent
And they'll die after a while

I'll watch them
Take in the scent
Of every breath
I'll sit quietly
Unmindfully
While the earth continues to turn
While their hair grows out
While I become stone