The Muse was Dead.
The Spirits wept.
Her Soul to Earth was Lost.
A new Muse came
In Humans born
Humanity their cost.
The Hosts of
Creativity
Lost shielding naivete
Their thoughts profound
Pierced shielding Dark-
Found Truth that Men reject.
These god-men of
The Muse possessed
Went mad with joy and Grief.
The holy Art
Of building Life
To owner's Life turns thief.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
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14 comments:
Nice job!
Thank you for such a specific comment.
I was having issues thinking of something specific.
So you don't really care.
Or I wasn't feeling very observant.
Synonymous.
Not necessarily.
Yes, necessarily. If you lack something to say, wait until you possess it.
A good point. Sorry!
Have you yet come to a conclusion?
It's fairly abstract, so I'm not sure what to make of it. I like it, though.
You consider this to be abstract? Interesting. Met? What do you think?
It is abstract, but less so than most of your writing.
Really? It seems straightforward to me. Huh.
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