I harvest motifs inside my limitless fields
Rays enter through my broken windowpane
I assemble the scattered pieces of my consciousness
Murals surface upon the cracked walls of my ruined town
I paint infant auroras upon the somber skies
My palette falls down in the abyss of autistic blues
Colours blend into an unending abstractness
In a forsaken museum a canvas comes to life
World fails to observe a masterpiece
An artist remains veiled behind the curtain
- Rahul Ahuja


