Masterpiece

A long time has passed.
Dust has settled on me and around.
This room has grown old and grey.
The masterpiece I had promised myself
Has not even started to take form.
And I too am lost in this stretch of time.

But now you come and awake me,
Stir life in this dead and decayed place,
Write your name on the dust on my desk,
With a gentle scribble of your fingers.
I get up and follow you out of the room
Forgetting the masterpiece, now complete, behind.