Chaos In My Mind

This is the draft without a name,
Where nothing rises, nothing falls,
A canvas blank, untouched by frame
A breath suspended in the walls.

Silence hums its hollow tune,
Empty as the fading moon.
The colors lost, the edges blur,
It's nothing, the same it always were.

What is a shape without a line?
A pulse without a beat, a sign?
A thought that never takes its form,
The quiet eye before the storm.

A flower’s scent in a garden bare,
Petals long gone, that once were.
In absence, there’s a certain grace,
A formless art, an empty space.

A shadow cast without a light,
A word that never meets the night.
In nothingness, it all begins,
The art of what has never been.