The Letter

One I captivated in the deepest chamber of my heart

And in the cloistral section of my closet, 

For it's his last remembrance that beheld balmy effect. 

The words still reflect his adherence to our attachment

And the tide of emotions etched in blue, 

Tethers me in straits when I read them any moment. 

He harboured in mist leaving behind that one token of affinity. 

The rest is all a mystic tale that inflates my inner vexation with wavy graffiti. 

His letter is incomplete as it shows no contention of his absence, 

Only its surface encumbered with dismal smudges displays agony of pertinence.