In silent halls, where whispers breathe,
The canvas speaks, a tale beneath,
Colors dance in timeless grace,
Emotions etched on every face.

A sculpture stands, serene and bold,
Stories of ages, quietly told,
Each curve and line, a history’s part,
A testament to a sculptor’s heart.

The melody of a painted sky,
Where dreams and reality intertwine,
In every stroke, a soul’s deep sigh,
A universe on a canvas confined.

In art, we find the heart’s own plea,
A mirror to our own humanity,
Through every piece, a chance to see,
The boundless depths of creativity.