When The Poetry Stops

When the poetry stops
I shall take a deep breath
and then look back
into the eyes of my past
and it shall show me
A forgotten legacy -
A memoir, a gift ;
a curse.
Little pieces of my  life
Latched onto lifeless words
in a symbiotic existence,
breathing life Into each other
Feeding on time
Holding nothing
No meaning, No memories
No questions , No answers
Just a quaint music
Floating faintly in the air,
Like a tune out of an old record
Buzzing in the corner,
and my heart shall go numb
at the sound of the verses
echoed in a million voices
infinite like the universe
Expanding into nothingness
it shall consume my soul
Drench me with its beauty
Soak me with its purity, and
Carry me to a distant constellation
Where I shall close my eyes
And rest

Reviews

[Saddam]

very nice and relax too, after finishing a poem we used to see it with great satisfaction and then we realise how we start it to write. thanks for this.

[cycy]

wow, this is a wonderful poem, almost reminds me of one of mine "word" its about writing and how the words are a great part of your life as a writer. thumbs up, fab piece.

[Anshuman Dash]

Thank you for the wonderful review. I ought to check out you poem :)