In celestial gardens where dreams are sown, I wander, a minstrel of secrets unknown. A gift from the ether, pure, unclaimed, In art and in melody, truth is named. A messenger only, under heaven's dome, My creations not property, but a journey home. They belong to the whispers of the gentlest breeze,
My Art Is A Love Song
My Art Is A Love Song
My Art Is A Love Song
In celestial gardens where dreams are sown, I wander, a minstrel of secrets unknown. A gift from the ether, pure, unclaimed, In art and in melody, truth is named. A messenger only, under heaven's dome, My creations not property, but a journey home. They belong to the whispers of the gentlest breeze,