The Man Who Painted With No Eyes
A masterpiece each time
The Man Who Painted With No Eyes
He held the brush without a glance
no sight to shape the colors there
yet still he moved with steady hands
and laid the stories bare
His world was folded into sound
the whisper of a passing wind
the weight of voices in the dark
the sorrow deep within
He painted lives he never saw
their grief, their joy, their silent screams
each stroke a trace of someone’s truth
caught in his waking dreams
No eyes to see the lines he made
yet every shade was painfully clear
a map of wounds, a path of scars
drawn without a tear
His vision lived beyond the skin
a place where light was born from pain
where darkness held the brightest flame
and loss was not in vain
He painted not what others had
but what he felt inside his chest
a man who saw with every breath
and gave the blind their rest
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (1)
Wow. As an artist, I believe it can be done, with feelings.