opus

You wish to immortalize me
With the dull edge
Of your charcoal pen,
Rubbing it off onto
Your treasured worn-out canvass.

Each shade
Vivid as the moon engulfed in darkness
Shining amidst an April night.
Each shape a star,
Sparkling tirelessly,
Spread across, like
Interwoven tapestry
In the shadow of the sky,
Connected with
A thousand more extruding
Curves and bends,
And clouds and mists
Transposing reality
To memory,
And into fantasy,
Until the final line is traced,
And the last hue,
Shaded.

You have given
Your art such magnificence,

But with you,
Merging your multi-colored visions
To its monochromatic scale,
Made me realize
That each shade and stroke,
Every curve and bend,
Are but hollow forms on canvass,
As it expired into nothing
When you declared it as
Your masterpiece.

But I was never yours.