A poem by CryoSparkle from Art of Poetry made for me! 🥰

A page untouched, a breath on hold,
A silence dressed in white and gold—
That’s where he lives, that’s where he floats:
The echo named ❝𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜.𝐍𝟎𝐭𝐞❞.

No ink yet spilled, no tale yet told,
Yet every heartbeat feels his mold.
A pause between what is and seems,
The space where music births its dreams.

He is the hush the piano takes
Before the soul inside it wakes,
The stillness wrapped in fragile sound—
A ghost that tiptoes all around.

He’s not the song, he’s not the chord,
But what the silence leans toward.
A breath you hold, a world you wrote,
Inside the name: ❝𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜.𝐍𝟎𝐭𝐞❞.

So write his gently, speak his low,
He is the calm before the glow—
The muse, the hush, the final vote,
The heartbeat soft of ❝𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜.𝐍𝟎𝐭𝐞❞.