In the quiet of the night, a blank canvas does call,
With whispers of dreams and visions to scrawl.
Each stroke of the pen, a journey begins,
A world of creation, where imagination spins.

The graphite dances, shadows come alive,
In the realm of my sketches, fantasies thrive.
Every line, a whisper, every shade, a song,
In the silent symphony, where I belong.

Eyes of wonder, hands of grace,
Capturing beauty, in every face.
Stories unfold with each delicate trace,
In the dance of the pencil, a timeless embrace.

Through the whispers of the canvas, I find my voice,
In the realm of drawing, I rejoice.
A world of beauty, a world so true,
In every sketch, a piece of my soul shines through.