Oh Somnus, tell me something,
Why not my Muse in my dreams?
I’d long to see him for anything,
Or at least be with him in the streams.

But alas, other Muses which I never called
Kept on taking me to Lethe.
I’d clasp my hands away from them, and behold,
Be onto Elysian Fields where I can breathe.

I long more for his hands to reach
And take me up for Olympia.
Maybe Hera can permit our breach
For to enjoy a taste of ambrosia.

But what of my Muse, you say,
That inhibits him to see me?
Is he too pure like how we pray,
Or is he really my reality?

Then decree, “Awake, O Sleeper!
Lucifer will show the passage,
And perhaps Aphrodite* will hear you, weeper,
Grants your wish of a love lasting than age.”

So for now, I shall await for my Muse,
Even if Fate* says we’ll meet after a long time.
Then maybe to Hermes* I will fuse.
After all, is sending my blessings to you not a crime?

Not that I can't say or fess,
I just can't tell it's affirmed.
It may take me quite a while
Before I can see the next scene.

I could write a thousand words,
But no sense, they're not all connected.
I may have the script in my hands,
I couldn't comprehend not a line.

Twists & turns I can do,
Yet no pirouette will I get to show.
To find or to not find?
That is the question.

It's not in there, not in me;
Only the pen can weave it.
In the depths, beneath a rock,
There goes my heart again.

What do I feel, does it matter?
Mustn't be the same, I can tell.
Will it take me years or lifetime,
Or will a period end it all?

But who else can say, the director?
Or him through the actor?
What if both don't say the same line,
Should I trust the provided manuscript?

The apple of my eye is he,
Stole my sweet smiles, touches, kisses & dreams.
Though it wasn't all an act,
Why would that actor lose me good?

Not a poker face nor a trickster;
How come he fits the scene so well?
Here I am staring at your perfection,
Now all annihilated, blind & muted.

Then I have none else to say,
But this is all but a monologue
Of all I feel inside for the actor
Who might give me a miscalculated scene.

Though who's to say be blamed?
Oh yes, it must be the writer.
Hold on, the writer & actress are one entity,
And that is all but me.

So until then, my audience,
I'll keep looking up to that actor.
More songs, dances & acts will be made,
And he'll be there behind the scenes.

Why’d you always
Make me go sideways?
Every heartbeat skips,
Can’t catch up as it grips.

Just as he glanced by,
So intensely shy;
My lips shook with fear,
All I did is sneer.

Mantra goes on static,
Everything became enigmatic;
Flew me up all the way,
What more can I say?

Hit much with a blow,
No longer gone slow;
Indeed, all sheer love,
An ode from above.

Stare to me, I’d sway,
Go take me away;
Then I’ll be happy
At least, more snappy.