Swirling and slicing through the white it builds
And entangles senses in its trap of textures.
It whirls you in. The strokes sing as they fill
Your ears, until all you hear are questions.
You fall into the cacophony of paint
Tornados of hues rushing past
It turns the so-called world grey and faint
As canvas pulls you in and holds you fast.
Your answers it holds hidden in smears of timeless
Defiance. You almost hear it, then—Silence.