The Gallery housed ideas
Empty frames
Blurred photos
And some degree of cleverness
Fiction circled
The deep of heart
Of darkness
And pretended
It wasn’t there
And there you were
Reaching from the surface
To the depths
And there was nothing
In this art
That would take you there
Nothing to show you
The transcendent centre
Of your self
Or the Light
Twinkling throughout the heavens
Dancing upon your soul
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