Deceitful as you are you allure,
oh Muse of Self the tunes you sing.
Numbing my senses with your cure,
what ailments you are sure to bring.
An oasis in the midst of my desert heart,
I quench my thirst with an illusion.
You are the master of your art,
of wrapping me up in my confusion.
Oh Muse of Self the tunes you sing,
persuading me to your wishes dance.
A happiness you pretend to bring,
come forth release me from this trance.
8 comments:
why do you italicise poetry?
Muse giving you trouble? good stuff, keep it coming.
In order to seperate/distinguish it from my regular writings.
D rebel, it has been giving me some serious trouble, but then again without it there would be nothing to write now would there?
D rebel.. imagine if the muse didn't exist and she could write whenever she wants.. just imagine the consequences!!
better moderate the quantity and get a better quality :)
So what are you saying buj? lol
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