Muse #3
The greatest art never sees the light of day
Courage Rewards Risk.
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3.0
All I want to do is love broken women; they are my muse. I love your flaws, my heart is amused, by the dread you suffer, believing your worth is bruised. The abuse is obtuse, compassion begs for a truce, will this rhyme loosen your noose? My mind is a curious frontier; love is fright disguised as cheer. We will never meet, isolation is my queue, lust blinds love, so I will be gay for you. My mind has surrendered, morality is shorn, thorns of plenty rape sanity's scorn. I lust like a pig, and think like a goat, I give like a cow, I grow like an oat. Lust is love without morality, isn’t that clever? If you fall for my mind, I will be your fruitless endeavour. Welcome, I am a Sardonic Poet (Satan's Cigarette). I know precisely why you reject God. You resent pain. |
Kind and humble. The first muse to officially sign-up. I hope she is ok. |
What makes you a muse?
Let's talk. I want to document your life through the anonymity of my poetry. People who read your poetry will realize how beautiful you are without knowing what you look like. The body is a consequence of the mind; the mind is a monster. Why? Hell is in the head (biblically). If you remove the body from the equation, the mind is forced to focus on empathy. Why? It feels isolated. Within that is solitude...where there is no prospect of sexuality interfering with your value.
Through your online activity I develop an understanding of your essence. Those who step forward will be assigned a number. That number is the only link from my poetry to your essence.
You are free to use my poetry to share yourself in ways sexuality cannot.
Through your online activity I develop an understanding of your essence. Those who step forward will be assigned a number. That number is the only link from my poetry to your essence.
You are free to use my poetry to share yourself in ways sexuality cannot.