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Description
My fingers move little as my wrist moves as light as the pencil I'm holding and as the thoughts in my mind. Yet the subject they're holding are loaded with sorrow, and the mood they describe is as dark as my pencil her lines. though the lines behold darkness, there is also a beauty in the paths that they follow, and the curves that they hold.
There are sweeps like in rivers, and there are angles full anger.
And if you'd follow these lines I'll show you all of my soul. Not even in words and not even in language, but in style and in words, not written down. So if you have the devotion, to learn of all my emotion, and are not scared for erosion because your mind is pure.
Please then come to my side so that we can collide and share all of our colors, our beauties and frights.
Cause though solitude suits me, I quickly feel alone.
Yet with you on my side.......

Well, you know...