Hidden Enigma

The confidential world of an artist.

Something, the world of an artist, says.

With a tone, so eloquent, yet so acoustic.

The shades no more, no less the rays.

The rhyme of a note, so idyll and poetic.

The hymn, portray'd in a million ways.

Twain'd story, so serene, yet so hectic.

 

 

The beauty, inside the reprival raze.

And the tales, which belong to the pages of history.

Of years, spent on the purloin'd stage.

Look so simple, yet a deep-dark mystery.

Lies inside the literal cage.

Like a gaudy day, with an insipid story.

 

 

The rim of a rogue, on the canvas, caught.

Words of wisdom, engraved on stones.

Peaceful days, with goodness, bought.

And the murderous nights of the antique thrones.

So quiet, so firm, is the woodwork's thought.

Yet portrays the blood and bones.

 

 

With time, the papers feed the moth.

Stones erode and the colour flies.

For it's impossible to see the both.

Sides of the art, that often dies.

Millions of apprehensions, see their growth.

But somewhere, the hidden enigma, still lies.

Author's Note

Art is a Godly conspiracy.

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

A very interesting poem along with the thesis...Bravo