We are the dead poets,
For once, we used to
See beauty in everything,
We would see beauty in
The night sky, and the
White clouds, the rhythmic
Waves of the sea, and the
First dawn of the land,
And the sunsets Serenade,
The poet's heart are made up
Of words, and if you love them,
They will write about you in their every poem,
And, something they will read you too,
Their gaze fixed upon you,
They will read in between the lines,
And love you, like you're the first person
That they have met,
Your lips are the first lips they had tasted,
Your embrace is...