I’m drawing a blank.

My mind sits still.

The room gives me no hints.


Painfully bland is my imagination,

Bringing me nothing but ordinary.

I hear the oblivion.


Light does not dance on the walls;

The traffic outside brings no racket.

The sound of the void wakes no vision.



Hitting me like flames,

Driving me to realization.

The world is a crowded place:

A cacophony of sound.


My mind is quiet?

I can make stillness?


In this world of sound, 

I CAN hear nothing.

Unmoving and peaceful is my being.

I am the artist.


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