Sonnet To Art Poem by RAJAT GHOSH

In every moment I feel a real rush
Like those little kids in morning brush,
And I become a hunter to hunt the rhyme
To create carefully a beautiful poetry fine.
Boredom chokes my mind when I fail
To respond with my failed, futile tale,
And my faded feeling hovers over the joy
And love becomes the powerful time's toy.
Art thou are an extraordinary tool,
You have the ability to time rule.
Art thou are my mate and love
Feeling lulled by shadow of dove,
Can I be the real public poet?
Can I be the original prophet?