Art=darkness

So they say that art finds its way in the dark

As if the pitch black allows your eyes

To form shapes and colours beyond the pain

As if the beating of your heart fills the room

With a melody that your fingers flow with the page

As if the tears collide down your face the same way

The window rain did when dancing as two then as one

As you trailed it down the window pane

As if this tortured soul can battle through that pain

And product beauty, and still remain sane

So they say that art finds its way in the dark

But what happens when that is all I see?

How do i produce an image or a thing

That sums up what has happened to me

Because within this place of inner turmoil and regret and sadness

The blackness itself is the beauty.