painting

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I try to descrite painting.

Submitted: October 31, 2007

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Submitted: October 31, 2007

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A large white canvas in front of my eyes

So close to the abysm my spirit goes out

Flying over clouds of imagination,

Colors of pure sentiment touch my soul.

Over deep and invisible sky I die.

What's means to be alive for one century.

If in one simple moment I can feel the eternet

When the colors dropping on canvas,

Red ink river flows from the vein to thehands.

Vanishing all the form of the world,

To be reborn in colors,only in your eyes.

II

A large white canvas in front of my eyes.

So close to the abysm,my spirit goes out.

Flying over clouds of imagimation,

Over colors,feelings,& silence touching the soul.

A deep and infinite sky opening windows.

Why should I to be alive for the centure?

At a simple moment,I can feel the eternety.

Colors dropping on a light canvas,

Red river flows from the vein to the hand,

Changing the form of the world,

To be reborn in colors,only in your eyes.


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