Oh Poetry!

Where are the words that thrilled my reader?
What took away my laconic, scintillating words?
Why doesn’t my pen bleed red anymore?
Thy emotions that flowed purely, unhesitatingly; where are thee?

Poetry, when you drew me to yourself, I didn’t resist
Your art submerged me into beautifulness
Through you, all things, I perceived graciously
So, I learnt you every day, so faithfully

The words you poured into my heart never existed
I would use them to write symphonic eulogies
Eulogies of thy great graciousness
Eulogies of my eternal romance with thee

Sometimes I struggled to stop struggling in your entanglement… I’ll write you an Acrostic

✓Possessing me in pieces, halves, whole; in toto
✓Often eluding me yet returning magnificently
✓Evaporating your sweet relief to my troubled self
✓Thrilling me whenever life made me frown
✓Rest assuring me always of serendipity
✓You of all arts do these to me

But…

Why don’t I feel your magnificent return after the last time you eluded me?
What happened to our ever-promising romance?
Where are thee oh you art of sublime temperament?
Inducing this temperament in thy reader’s and lover’s hearts

Come back to my heart!
Return magnificently to me oh art of arts!
And let my soul once more be glad!