In galleries’ quiet halls, the whispers rise,
Of colors blending, tales untold,
Each stroke a heartbeat, each hue a sigh,
In frames of gold, the stories unfold.

The sculptor’s chisel, the painter’s brush,
Carve and splash with fervent zeal,
Through silent stone and vibrant flush,
Emotions raw, their truths reveal.

A dance of shadows, light’s embrace,
On canvas broad, on marble cold,
Each work a glimpse of time and place,
Where hearts are bared, and souls are bold.

With reverence, we stand and gaze,
At masterpieces, old and new,
In art’s pure light, we find our ways,
To feel, to dream, to start anew.