We don't need words
as I pour my essence into you
we don't need to touch
all I have to do is be
exist, and you bleed art
this coexistence of ours
tiring but intoxicating
Slowly and surely
as candle melts,
I begin to fade into the night
as I have spent my days in your sight
with zilch to offer
death beckoning
Oh yes, let us rest
As I fall off the face of earth
Last Few Words: I've always been interested in the muse...this is how I imagine the muse thinking
Style/Type: Free verse
Review Request Direction:
What did you think of my title?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
Hello,
Enjoyed your poem, perhaps a re-think
on the title ... Musing the lose or the other
way Losing the Muse.
Thanks for your suggestion
I'm glad you enjoyed it
Nice poem
Nice poem. Have a few questions. Who were the "us" you spoke of?
Secondly (it might just be me thinking) unless I didn't understand the poem at all, I think ZILCH was too much of an exaggeration in a bid to to describe how little you think your creation of art, from muse, turned out to be.
But for those slight vague parts, I think this is a poem I would read severally. Thanks for sharing.
thank you
When I said us I referring to the muse..her and her inner woman...if you understand what I mean
I used zilch because she had burned out and had absolutely nothing to offer
I'm glad you like it...thanks