In the quiet of the night, pencil in hand,
Dreams take shape on a blank canvas,
Lines dance like whispers in the sand,
Shadows play in a silent, endless dance.

Each stroke a journey, a new story to tell,
Colors breathe life into the paper’s soul,
Emotions flow like rivers, a gentle swell,
Art becomes a reflection, making us whole.

The world outside fades, a distant hum,
As creativity blooms in endless hues,
The drawing whispers secrets, never numb,
In every sketch, a part of life we choose.

With every line, the artist’s heart reveals,
A tapestry of thoughts, wild and free,
In the realm of art, time gently heals,
And dreams become the reality we see.