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Sunday, August 11, 2013

perhaps...perhaps not...

I search the winds for a trace of my Muse,
her song no longer reaches my ear.
Her whispers fails to stir the air or
offer animation to my quill.
All I possess is a memory of a memory;
now blind to the hint of her presence.
The blackness of my ink,
a shadow of a shadow,
does not lend curves to my lines.
A loss.
There are no smiles or sighs between words,
only emptiness.
Trapped in the thought of a thought,
becoming lost time’s movement.
I was in love with the idea
of being in love.
That was enough for a moment.
To keep the smallest element of hope alive,
must I believe there was a thread of reality?
Perhaps not…

© Aug 11, 2013 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic

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