‘Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.’Leonardo Da Vinci
Or are you in your chamber where the shrineKhalil Gibran
of Virtue has been placed in your honor, and upon
Which you offer my heart and soul as sacrifice?
“A Lover’s Call XXVII”
To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.
What does it matter that my love couldn’t keep her.Pablo Neruda
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.
“Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines”