Burning Muse

A Dull Throbbing.

thewritersaddress:

               Poignant composition reigns from
               your fingertips, harkening the imperative
                                              call of your desire-
               The atmosphere is thunderous in my ears
               my eyes bleed from their torment, but
                                              I remain unaffected-
               They become nothing more than smears
               in this hazy recollection
               and I look past the mob of avid souls, seeing
                                              only you-
               My heart is hankering in exasperation, and
               I pray to a Godless faith that you can hear me
               but their low-cut blouses and tight jeans are
                                              distracting, you are faultless
               The glint in their marble eyes would divert even
                                              the sharpest magpie-
               I can’t watch this any longer, my heart won’t
               survive your amusement, your eyes avoid me
                                              it no longer matters where I am-
              I am somewhere in your heart
                                              but part of me is standing in the crowd.