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Eleete j Muir Jun 2015
Within the fires are the spirits
The gong upon our anvil
As such arms can only be made in Heaven.

Of various persons each known to his part
Distinct are the Poet and the Dreamer
And so I was Gods ape,
Piety so chaste
I hold it half a sin
Entering the cold broken world
Thus Adam lamented to himself aloud.

"No coward soul is mine
What will come at last too soon
For honour bit-wize travels
Unwinking on this fair ship 'Life'".

But there was resistance involved
The swift blazing flag of regiment
As bare as a birds tail
To make a clean breast
The iron entered my soul.

I pray you
The earthly bribble-brabble
A veil for the glory of Angels
Lest evil tidings to utter
To turn and face them
And see ones self
Not to be lost but by the makers hand.




ELEETE J MUIR
m Jan 2021
you know what keeps me up at night
and what it takes to fall asleep
it angers you
i'm in control
i don't need your help
you hardly offer it these days
you still claim to be on my side
but tomorrow ill wake up to an empty home
as lullabies drift away
Allyssa Bonita Aug 2018
There was no way to deny I heard a voice of an angel
A screech from a holy brabble
A voice from the holy bible
A melody you can’t deny
Sure, I might get too excited, maybe a little bit exaggerated, or maybe I overreacted
But it was his voice that I hear all the time in my ear, in my head
His sound waves trapped in my head
Yes, I might seem obsessed, a little bit out of sense, or maybe over the fence
But it was his voice that I memorized even before
Even before we met, the voice that’s been in my head
The voice I couldn’t forget, the voice in my dream, the voice of the man in my head
His voice was so familiar... but it can be just me, being head over heels, being delusional.

-END-
This is one of the poems in my His Collection, a collection of poems for the boy I used to like.

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