The stolen poetry

A lonely statue on an isolated shore
Carved out of cold, forsaken piece of rock
Chiseling its rough, uneven surface
With the tool of unrefined ideas
Wiping the dust off with a withered hand
He continued to engrave feelings on a stony face
The thoughtful moon with its brows furrowed,
The creased surface of the shimmering sea,
Watched with a pretension of ignorance
The old withered hands,
Imparting their experience, a form
Their thoughts, a mould
Their imagination, a face
And their creativity, a person
The waves washed the discarded dust of rock
With a sense of unacceptance and left traces of fading foam on the shore
As a sign of satire; a mock
Some angrier waves beat against it
Indicating their dissupport to the intruder
The intruder that broke in on their serenity
The intruder that trespassed their tranquility
The clouds parted to reveal a clear patch of sky
That reflected the on-going creativity
Time stopped a few paces to look
At the pathetic display of humanity
The magnum opus of nature
Against the magnum opus of man
On completion of his work,
He stood and admired his creation
He had induced life into a piece of stone
It could sing for itself-
Sing for the skill and finesse of its creator
But at the crack of dawn,
The illusion faded into reality
The sculpture, disfigured and deformed,
Reflected the state of man
Man-God’s sculpture in stone
And poetry in the form of life
In his lust to exceed god’s creativity,
Surpassed His highest creation-himself
Now the poetry on stone that he created
Reflects the wrath that He inflicted!!