I sit with my pencil, the night stretching long,
A whisper of you in every stroke so strong.
The lead breaks apart, the sharpener hums,
Chasing your gaze ‘til the morning comes.
Blue like the sky, dark as the sea,
A beauty too wild for a canvas like me.
Pages I’ve torn, scattered in flight,
Sketchbook of dreams beneath the pale moonlight.
Oh, you don’t know how hard I try,
To capture the fire in your beautiful eyes.
From evening’s glow to dawn’s first cry,
I’m lost in the art of drawing your eyes.
Eyelashes bold, they pull me near,
A seductive spell I can’t unhear.
You don’t know how deep it lies,
The struggle to draw your beautiful eyes.
Winter bites cold, summer burns slow,
Seasons don’t matter, it’s you I must know.
The curve of your lash, a powerful line,
A muse so fierce, it’s yours, not mine.
Beyond my hands, beyond my skill,
A vision of you I can’t fulfill.
Every page filled, a gallery of tries,
A love poured out in a thousand eyes.
Oh, you don’t know how hard I try,
To capture the fire in your beautiful eyes.
From evening’s glow to dawn’s first cry,
I’m lost in the art of drawing your eyes.
Eyelashes bold, they pull me near,
A seductive spell I can’t unhear.
You don’t know how deep it lies,
The struggle to draw your beautiful eyes.
Splinters of pencils, torn sheets on the floor,
Each mark a confession I can’t ignore.
A sky so endless, a depth so true,
Every shade sings of only you.
Oh, you don’t know how hard I try,
To capture the fire in your beautiful eyes.
From evening’s glow to dawn’s first cry,
I’m lost in the art of drawing your eyes.
Eyelashes bold, they pull me near,
A seductive spell I can’t unhear.
You don’t know how deep it lies,
The struggle to draw your beautiful eyes.
You don’t know, you’ll never see,
The artist’s heart you’ve set free.
Through every sketch, my soul complies,
Forever drawing your beautiful eyes.
Grok 3
