In a muses heart

The pain written in a muses blood doth break the tender heart string of mine.
Given only hope that love large enough to heal the wounds that run so deep.
How I bleed for tortures of a muscle that ever beats then stops forever.
Know this poetess of my dreams desires.
No broken heart call could a true knight
ever lift his hand not to hold another above the flames of hurt and sorrow.
Rest knowing there is a light so strong that no darkness could ever consume.
For it is you…



14 thoughts on “In a muses heart

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