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Surreal Echoes
In dreams of time's elusive dance,
Dalí's brush, a mystic trance,
Through swirling mists and fractured scenes,
Surreal realms, where truth convenes.
"The Persistence of Memory," whispers softly,
Time's molten face, in slumber loftily,
Soft hues embrace the canvas still,
In Dalí's world, time bends at will.
"Christ of Saint John of the Cross," suspended high,
In cosmic crucible, where angels fly,
A sacred vision, both stark and grand,
In Dalí's grasp, divinity's hand.
In Surrealist whispers, Dalí's art unfurls,
A symphony of madness, in vibrant swirls,
Where reality bends and spirits soar,
In Dalí's dreams, forevermore.
© @roopchau836
Dalí's brush, a mystic trance,
Through swirling mists and fractured scenes,
Surreal realms, where truth convenes.
"The Persistence of Memory," whispers softly,
Time's molten face, in slumber loftily,
Soft hues embrace the canvas still,
In Dalí's world, time bends at will.
"Christ of Saint John of the Cross," suspended high,
In cosmic crucible, where angels fly,
A sacred vision, both stark and grand,
In Dalí's grasp, divinity's hand.
In Surrealist whispers, Dalí's art unfurls,
A symphony of madness, in vibrant swirls,
Where reality bends and spirits soar,
In Dalí's dreams, forevermore.
© @roopchau836
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