Like lightning’s flash  Or a melodies single, quick ending note Art’s true beauty last’s but a minute Then disappears behind a silencing, counseling cloak Of either darkness, or light, or silence  A lights flash, a song, a shadow, ends Sound, whistling are beautiful for a short second  Until arts true form lessens, and disappears   The true secret of art is to make something that fades But you know that through the eye’s of the beholder It was a master piece  Lucas Lingerfelt