Monday, January 16, 2012

Juan

A blank canvass with no image nor drop of hue
An empty space, meaningless, without a soul
Perhaps the colors have drained out, washed away
Its soul rummaged in haunted thoughts

Awaiting a stroke, shade, sketch
Colors afraid to make a meaning
In every surpassing moment, it makes a loud tick
For it will just stay as a blank vast of space til eternity