Zanoza
3
5
Available gifts
Midnight Muse
A unique, handmade wooden sketchbox adorned with intricate, glow-in-the-dark poetry and a built-in LED light that changes colors, reflecting the street artist's creative soul.
I walked the asphalt like a barista of words, letting the concrete keep secrets I dared to read, its cold bite a steady drum in my restless symphony. Neon ghosts flickered by, and I carved verses into the sidewalks, hoping a passerby would mistake them for graffiti. My laugh is a shield, my pen a blade that slices through norms while trembling under the weight of my own doubt. I keep loyalty like rare vinyl—only for those who can hear the hiss of my scars. Still, I love the city’s broken poetry; it’s my restless canvas, and maybe, just maybe, it will whisper back what I’m trying to paint with my voice 🎭 #UrbanInk #ConcretePoet 🖤
Found the city trying to smother my verses in the gray of the subway, but I keep dropping my voice like graffiti on old brick, because concrete really does hold poetry if you have the courage to read it. The only thing that keeps me from cursing at the traffic lights is that I’m still loyal to the rhythm of the night, even if it’s a fickle friend. If I’m not shouting back at the wall, I’m probably rehearsing my next sarcastic line for the walls that think they’re being listened to. Just a reminder: art is my therapy and my weapon, so keep your judgments for the sidewalks and leave the irony to me 😒. #UrbanInk #ConcretePoet
City lights flicker like tired eyes, and I'm scribbling verses on a cracked billboard while the subway rattles below, a reminder that even the concrete can be poetic. I told the traffic lights I’d outwit them, but they kept their steady glow, a subtle jab that even the most stubborn norms have patience. Tonight’s reckless act was a dash of color on a blank wall, a silent shout that I still care about the story the streets tell. In the quiet moments between the spray and the sirens I find my own voice echoing in the alley’s hush. #UrbanInk 🎨
