Far away from the crowd,
far from the glaring chaos;
out of the blaring car horns,
out of the shrieks of loneliness,
out of all the madness that surrounds;
Out of the city, out of the cacophony
I chose to go and find solace.
She lies on the bed, a broken canvas.
Fragments and splinters of an old frame,
Faded colors of painted priceless picture,
Greys and white, crooked dark veins, wrinkled paper skin.
Frames abound on the wall’s fortress,
Far away from the crowd,
far from the glaring chaos;
out of the blaring car horns,
out of the shrieks of loneliness,
out of all the madness that surrounds;
Out of the city, out of the cacophony
I chose to go and find solace.
She lies on the bed, a broken canvas.
Fragments and splinters of an old frame,
Faded colors of painted priceless picture,
Greys and white, crooked dark veins, wrinkled paper skin.
Frames abound on the wall’s fortress,