To be a part of a poetry is to be a part of lost art
And if all things were turned into an art, you will be the epicentre
when did the time stood still when all there was ashes and memories
And as if all things were turned into an art, I became your admirer
when did the deep sea froze, when all there was left was porcelain dolphins
And as if all things were turned into an art, you were a sight for my sore eyes
when did the sun stop shining, when all there was left was the light you gave me