Poems are home

This is familiar to every inch of my body,
It's where I lived and died for centuries.
It's home to my organs and pens that write
Arbitrary thoughts that never settles like the tides.

It's like the universe that holds many secrets
Or like the virgin river that washes my mind
It's setting me ablaze like the vermillion sunset
And subdues me to the deepest ocean you could find.

I have a heart and a soul for this divine home
It's a deity in flesh and I'm the pious Rome.
The pages of letters that speaks greatly
Sweeps me up 'til night in the arms of poetry.