Pen Strokes to Paintings

A stroke of an idea emits from the black canvas of my mind.
The grazing of imagination whispers what the screaming noises sign.
To tell all what the stars design.
Through the piercing of the silent, striking sword,
Off the drop of rain, forever falling forward.
Down the drain, to be processed and stored for future pain.
Words flying off the breath of giants, creating a masterpiece.
Trickling down beautifully off each guitar string.
Echoing through endless lakes of tranquility.
To be rotated, and rotated, spinning as a fan to form an aching vortex.
The thoughts will never land.