Women concealed, nestled in darkness, Hear the unspoken melodies of Tar. Hands alive, sculpting women's figures, Yet their souls in the shadow of silence linger.

Bending to curve smiles upon women's lips, Sculptors ensnared by the allure of silence. In every stroke, every wound upon stone, They inflict a pain upon women's souls to own.

Women hidden in the dark of night, Dream of the sunrise, longing for light. But in the shadow of soulless statues' might, They surrender themselves to oblivion's flight.

After years of toil, do sculptors heed, The women lost in shadows silently? Or do they still cling to silent beauty's creed, By sacrificing a woman's soul for the need of the stone!

-saeideart