The poet softly cries
as his words go up in flames
He's got a thousand blames
But his search for a muse goes on
He let the ashes
absorb his tears
until his soul is dry and empty
Just the way he wanted it to be
For only his muse can make him happy
Aug 23, 2016
Aug 23, 2016 at 2:16 PM UTC
The poet softly cries
as his words go up in flames
He's got a thousand blames
But his search for a muse goes on
He let the ashes
absorb his tears
until his soul is dry and empty
Just the way he wanted it to be
For only his muse can make him happy
