All I need is a single glance,
And the words pour out.
The poems write themselves.
And the songs sing on their own,

All I need is just one look,
Just a peak of your eyes.
Over the top of your book.
Just a glimpse of your smile.

A word from your mouth,
That etches itself into my mind.
A giggle from your lips,
That dances its way onto a page.

A touch of your hand,
That tingles my skin.
A playful punch at my arm,
That jabs at my heart.

Everything you do,
Everything you are,
Is enough to inspire.
You are… my muse.

Let loose were the strings that held down my heart.
Gone was the fabric that enclosed these speakers
That dared to blare out loud.
And so my heart sang songs so soulful,
To a tune so delectably delightful.

Yet a song sung
Is not always a song heard.
And a song sung
Is not always a song that should be heard.
But merely whispered in hushed tones to oneself
Under the solitary grasp of darkness

But nevertheless,
A song will always be a song
Regardless of whether it is sung
And thus, under the night sky
As I hum the words over
My heart plays, a silent symphony

Sometimes i wish for a moment of bliss.
The world echoes so violently behind me,
That i craved it.
Yearned for it.

To me it became a rare commodity,
One that kept bay the insanity.
Ideas scattered like loose pages across the floor,
Were now bound by thought.

But this world...
It does not give you what you wish,
But rather what it wishes to give you.
So i cherish what solace i find,
Always in search of another moment to unwind.