Prismatic Sovereign

Beneath the veil of shadows, a box of dreams lies still, Its lid adorned with hues that dance, a symphony of will. Naman, the name that whispers secrets, a talisman of light, A vessel of stories, a keeper of truths, a beacon of insight. The colors bloom like petals of a flower yet to bloom, A kaleidoscope of life, where every shade is a room. Gold and crimson, teal and emerald, a tapestry of time, Each stroke a memory, each hue a thread in the fabric of rhyme. The box is closed, yet its essence spills, a silent call to be heard, A mirror of the soul, a reflection of the world. It speaks of journeys, of paths untold, of dreams that dare to rise, A symbol of hope, a promise of transformation, a timeless guise. Open it, and let the colors spill, let the stories take flight, For within its depths, a world awaits, a journey of light. A box of magic, a box of mystery, a box of you and me, A Prismatic Sovereign, a keeper of the soul, eternally free.