Musings on the wall
My muses: come alive; speak in parables, rhyme their crimes
My muses: quirky; stand with their feet rooted, their back against the wall
When initiating movement - that's when they stall
A competitive brawl and crawl
To handover inspiration
Enthralled
Without a destination
Conformed
To laugh with hesitation
Adorned
Their sounds arrive to my ears, remarks of silent reputations: prayers for eternal bliss and alienation.
Copyright M.E.S ©
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