The Muse

[rockyracoon01]

When I put a pen to my hand last week,
it felt as if everything had been written;
          all of the break-ups mourned
                   the love stories told and
                         left to exist in the murky waters of
a story told at one point or another.
As if the muse was extinguished, her
      inspiration drowned and forgotten

I fathomed that I may prepare her a eulogy
for a life abused
      and taken advantage of.
Unappreciated, forgotten, never-ending
                          fleeting as she whispered her worldly
glory into your awaiting ear, disappearing in
 a haze of
                  breathless,   translucent   synergy.

The hair on my nape stood on end
        her dainty cheek laid its weight on the strength of
  my unexpecting shoulder. Her presence was undeniable,
                       inescapable. The natural perfume that exuded
from her soft flesh was one which
            inspired millennia of transcendence
            the greatest thoughts and heartbreaks in history.
Slowly, I shifted my eyes to her gaze; they were met
        by a pair of giant pearls, flawed only by an
amber, set evenly in the center. A steady stream of
            salt-water was dripping from her
                         extruding lashes

Her wrists, red with burns, fallout
   Of a concealed battle of self-internment, roped down
in her own derogating porthole, the muse
       longed her own revelation. Lamentations wailing of
writing caught in rhyme
     music trapped in measures
          love mixed up in lust
                ignorance mistaken for hate
and not one willing to inspire a muse to muse.

Still needs work. did it mostly as an excercise...I need to be writing a little more, anyway...
Make sure to thank your muse.