Wednesday, 18 February 2015

The Lady and Her Muse

There is this fever....
That the lady caught from her Muse...
This sticky,
                sweet,
                         dark,
                                succulent,
                                             moist fever....
She needs no remedy from.



There is this craziness...
The Man got from his Muse...
This beautiful,
                    Magical,
                              Dark,
                                      Yet light madness...
He needs no cure from.



The Lady... And her Muse,
Who In turn has also made the Lady his Muse,
Shaping each other's pieces of art,
Turning their quickened heartbeats into beautiful poetic rhymes,





                                 Steel. Silk

               The imagery. 
 He said it makes his mind run...

It is thoughts about him,
That she allows to drip as ink from her quill,
Into a beautiful piece of poetry.

The Lady and her Muse,
The Man and his Muse, Mural bearers!

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