This chapter is dedicated to Tuase23
In a room engulfed by shadows deep,
Where whispers echo, secrets keep,
A quiet gathering of souls unknown,
A silent auction, a scene to be shown.
Auctioneer's gavel graces the air,
The room stands still, a solemn affair,
On wooden pedestals, treasures rest,
With silent whispers they are blessed.
First, a painting with hues so rare,
Strokes of passion imbued with care,
It tells a tale, a boundless dream,
Whispers of beauty, yet to be seen.
Next, a sculpture carved from stone,
Embracing agony, anguish, and alone,
Its silent plea echoing through the air,
To feel understood, to find repair.
A necklace twinkles, precious and rare,
Diamonds dancing, shimmering with flair,
Whispering tales of love so grand,
Of soulful connections, hand in hand.
A book of poems, inked in rhyme,
Whispers of emotions, frozen in time,
Words weaving tales of love and woe,
In silent verses, hearts afire will glow.
And as the bids crescendo in flight,
Silent applause, a symphony so bright,
Each treasure finds a loving hand,
A connection forged in this transient land.
For in this silent auction, hidden and deep,
Lies an understanding that all hearts seek,
In whispers, we find the language true,
Where souls become one, me and you.
So, let the room stand in perfect hush,
In admiration, respect, and gentle brush,
For in this silence, a symphony churns,
Auctioning souls, the world electrifies and learns.
YOU ARE READING
"The All-Consuming Flame: An Ode to Obsession in Poetry"
RomanceIn dusty pages of forgotten lore, I collect the verses hidden from sight. Each line a treasure, I passionately explore, Morsels of thought, sparkling in their light.
