- in the thoughts of a fading Muse -
.:excerpt:.
He was never one to step into things.
Conversation whirls about him, time and tragedy hovers 'bove him. Present can become quite a haze and though less is missed by silver gaze it is merely that.
Observe.
He doesn't dance in the daytime, chooses instead for night-chime, clock strikes twelve so he delves into movement, again. And even then it's weaker.
But he's not much of a speaker.
Serenader. Perhaps.
Though not to persuade her...
Things shift, times change, he cannot hope to rearrange some predestined way of things if there is such a thing, like notes of mandolin strings and he wishes life was that romantic.
Seems more sporadic.
In times of quiet he fades, slight, never had the spades of self-righteous exuberance to carry him across dance floors. He sits to watch the rain pour-
If it would only come.
He thinks something must be awry for September's end come without the godsend of waterfall like tearfall but... he has no reason for either.
He can't force himself to see her cry sometimes, for no reason, there are far greater things and deeper treason, but oh, oh it sometimes pains so deep, amazing what loneliness can reap though he's been here, always. But some days...
Oh, some days.
Extravagances, charms, serenade and words and things he knows too well but some days...
He just wishes for you in his arms.
Missing you, your eyes, their sheen, every way you movesoundbreathe and see...
Just wants to be there to ask
Are you happy...?
I really hate this time of month. *sigh* ;;;
Sorry for the flip of emotions in one day, guys. But hey~ Have some vamprude drabblebits.