poetry left me :( :(

pack up the moon
dismantle the sun
pour away the ocean
sweep away the wood
for nothing now 
can ever 
come to any good
                      

poetry left me

left me in all forms

verse,couplets and meter
escaped me

hidden in metaphor and similes

words no longer stir me

but die a hundred deaths

choking my parched veins

I no longer see words

dripping like hot lava

setting forest fires

cascading your wild hair

I am not the horse of wind

galloping high up in the skies

carrying messages to the moon..

dwelling your magical eyes.
nor am I the singing bird

collecting twigs of alphabets

weaving limericks nestled

in every fabric of your eyebrows

Gibran ,Hafez ,Rumi,Qabbani!!

what use is their sorcery

do you now picture my disease

a wanderer disrobed of language

allow me to pluck words

from the garden of your beauty
again lend wings to my bardic existence
baptize me with that one ' rare event '

your ' beautiful face '  :(