DOT

No skill contrived
My pulsating breath
For a rendition
To my improvisation, and
Was melodic,
Muffling its depth
To reach my ears, deaf!

A dark imagery
Creeps involuntarily
To decree a foresay
In a sudden change
Keeping my fear near

I paint with varied strokes
The parched silence
Brushing my shadow, own

All search closed
My eyes spot, dark

All meted in a "." (dot)!