Blind folded statue-Shant

Silent stone, bound in darkness, Blindfolded to the world's caress. No eyes to see the hues of day, No vision to guide its way. Fingers reach out, hoping to find, The gentle touch of the divine. But all they feel is empty air, No solace from the blank despair. Unseeing gaze, lost in space, Yearning for a glimpse of grace. But the world remains shrouded in black, With no hope of ever turning back. Yet within this statue's stony heart, A flame of hope, steadfast and smart. For though its eyes may not behold, Its spirit burns with stories untold. In its stillness, there lies great power, The strength of waiting, hour by hour. For when the blindfold is finally lifted, A world of wonder will be gifted. And so it stands, patiently waiting, In the stillness of its eternal painting. A symbol of hope, against all odds, Blindfolded but never truly lost.