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likethedrPoems
He is the muse. A constant variable, A short fuse. Absence unbearable, The great unknown. Love, out- grown. He is the bass. A deeper vibration, A song written in space. A sober libation, Divine flaws. Cue the applause. He is the sun, But above all, the rain. A planned hit-and-run, Un-navigable terrain. Six feet, three inches. Distraught, fresh stitches. He is the ebb, But also the flow. A tangled web, Fresh footprints in snow. A new way to break. The most deliberate mistake. He is the rose, The rose-less thorns. Interminable prose, Angel-grown horns. Tables now turned. Bridges skillfully burned. He is the mirror, She finally faced. An image drawn clearer, Adoration misplaced. Ego crumbled. Three words, mumbled.
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Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 4:31 AM UTC
Muse.
He is the muse. A constant variable, A short fuse. Absence unbearable, The great unknown. Love, out- grown. He is the bass. A deeper vibration, A song written in space. A sober libation, Divine flaws. Cue the applause. He is the sun, But above all, the rain. A planned hit-and-run, Un-navigable terrain. Six feet, three inches. Distraught, fresh stitches. He is the ebb, But also the flow. A tangled web, Fresh footprints in snow. A new way to break. The most deliberate mistake. He is the rose, The rose-less thorns. Interminable prose, Angel-grown horns. Tables now turned. Bridges skillfully burned. He is the mirror, She finally faced. An image drawn clearer, Adoration misplaced. Ego crumbled. Three words, mumbled.
#musings#muse#love#heartbreak#feels
likethedr
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likethedr
Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 4:31 AM UTC
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