Amidst the twilight of ethereal shades,
a soul, fragmented, seeks the ether’s call,
for years it wandered, seeking truth,
unwitting artist, lost within the sprawl.
The shards roam through realms unknown,
as fingertips trace lines across the page,
each stroke a piece of self, a sacrifice,
a story born from struggle, love, and rage.
In trembling hands, the artist wields the power,
oblivious to the soul that seeps and bleeds,
each creation forged with blind devotion,
the canvas capturing their deepest needs.
Obsidian ink drips, with darkness seeps,
as shades of sorrow in the parchment creep,
the artist searches, yearns for clarity,
unaware that they unravel mystery.
For every tale, a piece of soul released,
a journey to forgiveness and to peace,
years of struggle, the artist braved,
to find themselves within the art they’ve made.
The truth unveiled, as twilight shadows fade,
the artist stands before their inner maze,
a question lingers, echoing through time,
has freedom found them…
or has madness claimed?
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