Tell me, Liffey

Liffey... what haven't you seen?

Isn't it a part of your art missing?

Don't you feel like going to sink?

Isn't your water now like stone?

Isn't the enchantment somehow gone?

I can see you're nonchallant

And through your ways

There goes no seagull or brant

How cathartic were that days, weren't them?

Have you ever dreamt of being such close to tenderness?

Despite you have chased, can't reach over again..

How often that breathless osculations have accreted

 your radiance?

No more obnubilation in a glance!

The subtle touches, mellifluous whispers 

How many hours have you avoided

Just for being that reverie part of?

Which treasures were shining way upon

The sun

Which beats were quite loud out 

Whereas any lover would understand

Liffey, your quietness 

And the burning logings

Weren't this quite alluringly gorgeous?

So many times you've told 

And blindly excuses were found

"Where passion might visit

careful paces are requisite"

Ah, yet qua crucifying matter!

Tell me, Liffey, would you cinder yourself into your own water?