my muse
i sit around
wondering
where i'm at in this hour
well i thought, i'm out of my world
into everyone else's
cos i sit there
looking around
and there is nothing but
my own muse in front of me
upon the table
where i sat down and write my bleeding flown away words
on paper
unspoken
and only i could say them in my own way
without loudest converse
of flowing echoes
as i sit,
watching you grow on me
i guess you're my muse
my second mirror
but how?
oh how?
i am you
you're just me
and when are we going to be that butterfly
in my own pink hourglass?
cos i wander, pondering
through sweet thoghts
like walking upon an eerie light
you linger my shadow
and simply turn sky blue
oh yes, i'm back in my world
where there is pink coloring
my soul
and butterflies flying all around me
forget everyone else
i got my own you
musing my own muse
so when am i going to be that butterfly?
5 comments:
I like that muse kai
:))
the final "comlete" form of a butterfly is called an imago
the plural is imagines
it may be pronounced differently but for me it is too right to be a coincidence
you can all become butterflies when we use our muse - our imaginesations :)
love this one kai
hope my comment makes sense
you already are that butterfly, kai!
I luv your muse... you're such an inspiration I can't wait to spread my wings and fly with you. Keep writing with a passion :)
... I can vision this "i am you you're just me and when are we going to be that butterfly in my own pink hourglass?"
thank you everyone!:)
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