There are no written ways to arrive at this.
The fine strokes in this painting,
The way it shapes this.

It can fill souls with absolute bliss,
The thought of creating.
There are no written ways to arrive at this.

Colors form perfect lines, nothing amiss.
A soul in pieces, made into a single painting.
The way it shapes this.

Brushstrokes beautifully placed, everything fits
Like a puzzle, every meaning is interchanging.
There are no written ways to arrive at this.

The brushes are set, the canvas a blank abyss,
Ready for the pieces to start arranging,
The way it shapes this.

Paints are set about, the colors fixed.
The canvas is ready for painting.
There are no written ways to arrive at this.
The way it shapes this.