It was actually green and I hadn’t any clue

I penned down lines thinking it’s blue

Stanza after stanza inspired by the subject

Perhaps I was mesmerized, perhaps it’s true.

 

The subject threw light on my thoughts

And I weaved praise of all sorts.

There was a gush of guilt within me then,

While my poem had topped the charts.

 

Reception wrong yet the lines made some sense

Inspired I was and to me that’s the essence…

Fascination had bit me and so did the halo,

The feeling with which I wrote was very intense.

 

I reached out to the angel and sought the clarity

The angel paused for a while and with parity,

Did ask me, “it is why…”

And bestowed upon me a relative similarity.

 

Had it not been the angel, I’d have been in dark

Subject-blinded when subject itself was the spark…

I owe gratitude to the angel for timely intervention,

The angel’s grace left behind a very sacred mark.

 

Formation of newer thoughts, newer opus

The angel shall remain always my locus

Reframed subject with an objective clear…

I am drawn into it with an energized focus.