Fragments of a Face

From scattered lines, a face takes shape,
A whispered form, a bold escape.
Jagged echoes, flowing free,
A portrait built from mystery.

The strokes collide, yet still they sing,
A broken crown, a splintered ring.
Gold like dusk, soft yet strong,
A canvas where lost souls belong.

Do you smile? Do you weep?
Are you waking, lost in sleep?
A story told in shattered light,
A dance of shadow, sharp yet bright.

In chaos spun, in art confined,
A fleeting glimpse of soul and mind.
Not all is clear, not all is known,
Yet beauty rises, torn and sewn.