The beauty of a blind man is that he sees what he wants to see.
He sees the darkness and the darkness doesn’t show him the havoc and chaos that the world has become.
Dead beauty and alive ugliness.
It shows him the beauty that the world has lost and therefore he has no pain.
In which it’s his imagination that envisions such perfection.
The beauty we crave and that is art
In his sightless life, he paints a picture ever so beautiful.
Yet we with sight, we fear the darkness for what it’s not.
Sometimes I wish I was a blind woman maybe I would see a better world.