Within two dimensions there hides a third,
ones true reflections are observed,
no lies exist when a visions heard,
for there is no death in a canvas world.
Hearts tormented lie in a pool,
eventually sinking with the other fools,
still grasping for what caused their demise,
love and passion without cold and wise.
Scratching emotions onto a page,
unrestricted by conformity’s rage,
colors bloom in black and gray,
attempting to express what you cannot say.
Within these visions lies a void,
for interpretations often destroy,
desires to express instead of hide,
the true relevance of what’s been confided.
Within two dimensions there dwells a third,
only acknowledged by the few absurd,
dwelling in expression not illusive needs,
never to capture the eyes of what seems.
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