The shadow of a vanquished perception,
hidden in the corner of a musty closet,
I wonder if you are but a muse,
put aside for a rainy day.
I found you dreaming,
a simple package with a gold-ribbon bow,
just waiting for someone to draw you out,
someone like me?
An idea just out of reach,
that draws nearer,
then pulls further away.
You are cause for tingling upon my fingertips,
but their helpless longing
will bring them no closer
to the forbidden treasure.
To pull the wisps of ribbon
will only release your soul unto the atmosphere,
no,
better to keep you in the stronghold of my mind's chaos.
Inside the box,
a muse you may remain.
Inside my accursed prison,
you may calm the wrath endured.
Here,
the voices play tricks upon a gentle aura,
not quite here,
not quite gone.
You are here,
and then again,
you are not.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Not bad ...
not bad at all. However, I'd say "into", not "unto" in line 17. Otherwise, good job.
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Wow. I really liked this. The longing in it was palpable, and the ending was just... perfect. I love the contradiction in that statement, because it's so true. I remember being smitten with a fellow poet here who lived halfway around the world - and while she inspired me, she also broke my heart with each keystroke.
I also loved the 'put aside for a rainy day' element. There's a love for those things, I think. You always know they're there, and you love them all the more when you dust them off and see them as they were.
Wonderfully written, hun.
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