You

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