No More Poetry

Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.” ... Leonardo Da Vinci What if there was no poetry in this world? Unpoetic world with no more poetry No more perfumes to permeate flowerbeds. No more glossy beads of petrichor cloying. A blindfolded moon in veil hunts for solace moving a canvas of craters, in clouds motionless. Voice of unspoken words wilting away, locked in deep thickets, an infinitesimal space clog a lump in throat of breathless syllables. reckless tender feelings transmute and displace. No urge to transcend, No boundless and free... An unpoetic world with no more poetry. A lovesick heart no longer rambles Only blaring sound in bleary eyes, as known faces devour unknown shorelines. No more open waters , no more endless seas No misty mountains, No opaque night walls Only sunsets fade into shattered dreams. Butterflies swarm around in colorblind paths, in search of red and green, they find no more. No more rhythm , No more rhyme, Only pattern of time ticks in twenty four The Useless Joy of Poetry, With us, she is no more. Dated 24 th January 2019