you didn't fall in love with me
you fell in love with me because i happened to be the only one there

.

I am merely the conduit...
For those who are voiceless.
Or the servant even...
To things which lay silent.
I am the medium through which
you come alive.

A noteworthy find,
but your words are still your own.
Birthed from the deepest ocean of thoughts...
Forged with the fiercest fires of emotions...
And harvested from the richest mine we call life.

But I hadn't planted the seeds...
You did.

But you did nurture them,
so they might flourish.
You did share them,
so others you nourish.
If I am anything in this enterprise,
I am the wind that brushes your skin...
Not the gust that fills your sail.

Then I accept that we're both so fitting.
Therefore I acknowledge you
as you do I.



Me
Muse

.

Reaching out across the stars,
we've had to fight since birth,
so that our burning avatars
could unite our lights on earth.

Arms raised not to withdraw
beneath the crying horizon,
a closing coup de grâce
where a shattered moon is rising.

Towards one another we race
with no space left to divide
the endless dancing embrace
of two worlds that finally collide.

She pours her honey words down my throat.
It takes but moments to become drunk on her artful prose.
And the lavender fills my spirits
As she buries her head in my heavy chest

Yet, you'd dare say she's sleeping with stolen dreams.
That it should be your words which intoxicate me,
That your perfume should give me life as you lay your soul into me.

And maybe for a moment, some time ago it was your words,
Which set my soul aflame.
But on came the night where you made your great escape.

It was I who was but a passing fancy,
with kind words and a gentle heart.
Was it not also your tongue
Which lashed it poison onto my breast.

She is fluid, calm and formless.
As the fire passes and I call to be healed.
It is not your words, but hers, which soothe.
So on your bitter thrown of curses, do not dare
Say that she sleeps with stolen dreams
For it was her words which rescued me
And it is her pen, which will write away this pain.

I took a walk today
One and a half miles
To where I work all day
Walked past a line of crows
Sitting on a telephone wire
Giving me curious looks
Because every step
Was downhill all the way
Like a metaphor of my life
I raged on the inside
Until I got to the office
And got to work

A perfect storm comes to greet me
With its arms outstretched wider than I can see.
I meet it gladly as I stare a-bow,
I need not look away as it envelopes me.

I am ready now.

I am happy and at ease with my weathered sail,
And all my efforts have braced me for this coming gale.

Be it by Orion's sword or Poseidon's breath,
Be it by my own frailty or faculty,
I am doomed to perish.
Death cares little for my time,
He will come when he does wish.

Why not meet him with this dervish?

Shut
Both
Eyes
And
See
With
Other
Eye