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
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
Stay and read please. Like&follow me. If my poetry touches your ♥️ maybe leave a small tip
#Marie381UkWrites
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