Chapter 101: Poetry - The Paint brushes

The canvas waits, blank and wide,

A void where dreams and colors collide.

With strokes of verse, I dip my pen,

In hues of joy, sorrow, now, and then.

A golden sun in a lover’s sigh,

A midnight sea in a teardrop’s cry.

Each stanza blooms like a flower’s kiss,

Soft and fleeting, yet wrought with bliss.

Shadows dance in the ink’s embrace,

Tracing the scars time cannot erase.

But in the chaos, the art remains,

A mosaic of heart, a portrait of pain.

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