As night intertwines with the delicate dance of dawn,
silent canvases murmur beneath invisible strokes.
Dreamlike symbionts conspire in whisps of parasitical craft,
revealing themselves in the folds of a shadow's sigh.
Have you ever lain awake,
cradling the echoes of colors unseen,
as soft voices chime through your mind?
These are the painters of the quiet,
those who trace the unpainted realms in radiant absence.
With gaudy laughter and emerald screams,
they spill the twilight onto paths rugged with dreams
and sibilant hopes, turning lost relics of tomorrow
into shadowed promises that flicker in silence.