My Lost Muse

I've lost my muse to my dear heart,

Which know nothing but love. 

It kept knocking on the door of expectations not knowing it was a path to get hurt. 

But you my friend were a locked chamber of secrets,

A glowing goblet of fire;

Abridged with the warmth of body wrapped in the chains and stinging wires. 

I've lost my muse to circumstances that were beyond my repair, 

Which only introduced me to the world's endless despair;

To the wound that my heart could not heal, 

My feelings that you could not feel,

My muse took me to the world where he stood happy looking at me bleed. 

Once who touched me so wild, now keeps his hands off me, 

Oh you don't have an idea of my pain when his body was just 'trying hands on me', 

 But I still boast his scratches on my heart as precious as 'the last judgment' of Michelangelo,

I still relive him in me, like you are hooked to the Adele's song, 'Hello'. 

While his muse changed more often than the fears of a Schizophrenic,

I moved around carelessly, unmindful creating imaginary memories of us so scenic.

My muse, oops he says not to mention 'my', 

But unfortunately, that's a word I use to keep away from the fear of dying,

Oh my muse, you be so handsome yet carry heart like stone, 

Which reminds me that I've lost my muse to my dear heart that in your love has always painfully grown. 

- Kameshwari