The concept of Muse,
The way it captures the imagination,
Too difficult to fathom,
Too easy to jump to conclusions.
Not an infatuation,
Nothing so immature,
Ordinary or momentary,
No longings and sudden disappearances.
A constant wealth of emotions,
Caring beyond measure,
Affection beyond doubts,
No names possible to explain this.
A selfless wish for his success,
No motive for captivity,
An inspiration for creativity,
Truly necessary for life.
BEYOND THE VERY ORDINARY,
MAKING A HUGE DIFFERENCE,
SO VERY SPECIAL,
MY MUSE!!
The sheer futility of existence,
A meaningless life,
No one who cares,
No one to care for.
A loveless monotony,
Devoid of genuine affection,
No friends, no family, no love,
No one to understand the depth.
A life that faces scorn and bitterness,
A life scalded by insults and sarcasm,
A life humiliated for difference and non conformity,
A life that is beautiful and yet not enough.
So much pain and sadness,
So carefully masked and concealed,
A life that is sought after and yet,
A life no one can see through.
A smile that hides a wealth of tears,
Some shed, some guarded by esteem,
Casual banter and meaningless talk,
Veiling the intensity of the hurt.
Contemplating suicide is tempting enough,
Luring into a faceless trap,
A promise to set you free,
An introduction to finality.
Yet suicide is not really an option,
Not when a part of you,
Dies everyday, hour and second,
Not when you celebrate that death.
A numbness within,
A cold cruelty,
Wishing myself to die,
And feel death consuming me gradually....
For my muse again..
Its called 'Musing'....
A sigh escapes my lips,
so much perfection,
too much to handle..
The sculpted angles,
the defiant structure,
a seductive foreboding..
What would it be like:
to kiss away the indifference?
to surrender to the interest?
to give in to the ultimate..
Would you be burning in my arms?
or make me quiver for your touch?
would we be meeting fire for fire?
Or would it be the perfect blend of souls,
where I know not for sure,
WHERE 'YOU' END AND 'I' BEGIN....
