Art is realization and cultivation of one's perfection,
nonetheless, an artillery to life's crudeness,
convulsions and imperfection.
Art is altogether self-empowerment
and affirmation of one's failings,
where weakness' spiritual essence
pulsates to infringe on strength's soul,
and in harmony they resonate a melodious drum roll
and metamorphose into a symphony of love -
a language the blind can read, the deaf can hear,
and the dumb can speak.
Art is my: roar, catharsis, accolade, celebration,
liberation, sublimation, ammunition, vindication.
My fantasy encroaching on reality
imagination clad in work clothes