"White WHISPERS OF THE ARTISTIC SOUL OF MINE FROM A GRAVE Dawn knocks at the door of my grave, And I see a sunbeam penetrate my skin And bring back to life the soul of an artiste dead Inside me, Alive, once again to another day I breathe in pain And exhale art With a paintbrush picked out of my nerves, I paint misery on the canvas Of my skin with myriad colors of my blood The ink of my vein summons the cold-blooded universe, And turns it cordial With its warmath And as footsteps of dusk approach, I dig a grave while dancing on my feet To bury myself there with and unheard melody From my grave, moonlight emerges Only to illuminate the world after my demise , But you see, My addiction to art never let's me die. After my death My art makes me alive ayushman singh ©रिंकी कमल रघुवंशी "सुरभि" "