Stuck in artistic mind

By Leela   

A painful art is my
soul-path,
Dreadful, yet full of stars.
Shifting from one dream to another,
I pledged to be known as traveller,
Never knowing my home,
As within realities I dwell,
Drawning in insecurity to send out this
ever lasting chapter we dare to call life.
They say:"Ask for a hand, there's no shame",
But I feel I'm already complete in nowhere,
I am a pure sarcasm to the universal trurh.
Dare I to say that tears of mine
Aren't purposeless,
Some get to feast when they are full of despair.
Celebrate we must the beauty behind the curtains,
Celebrate we must each hard note saving its persistence from thousands of adagios,
Starve we mustn't, escape the illusion we mustn't.
I believe in what I see,
I'll prove everyone wrong,
Let them just see what burns inside my mind.
I have to remain silent,
What if someone heard mu thoughts?
I left the stage, left nothing but the dust behind the curtains.
Walls are much better.

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This Poems Story

To be an artist is a beautiful gift and life is in so many colours and shades. They way a genius, like Mozart or Dostoevsky, would've felt is above out imagination. But if we let ourselves into world of universal possibilities, we may dare to create our own world since our mind is limitless.