In the quiet gallery, whispers of hues dance,
Each stroke a story, each shade a trance.
Canvas whispers secrets of the heart,
In every corner, a world apart.
The painter’s dreams captured in a frame,
Silent symphonies that call your name.
Shadows blend with golden light,
Mysteries unfold in the night.
Sculpted forms stand in graceful pose,
In marble and clay, a soul exposed.
Chiseled thoughts frozen in time,
A silent dialogue, a rhythm, a rhyme.
Art, a language without words or sound,
In its depths, new worlds are found.
A timeless dance of color and shape,
Where imagination finds escape.