The Muse

There exists a universe where I'm known as Lima. You aren't allowed there.
There exists another universe in which Lima walks. You are already here.
You have entered because you can appreciate style while ignoring content. You had been warned.
P.S. Don't bash me up if you find haiku or plain prose here.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Musings of an August day

I take no more pleasure in admiring my handiwork,
Nor in the countenance of my beloved.
I care no more for beauty of sound,
Not even for the cleanliness I loved.

The rhythm of word and note,
Inspires not my feet.
Even the words of my teachers,
Like bitter medicine I treat.

Unmashable storylines
Cry havoc in my brain,
Dissatisfied I turn to excess
Of mirth, games and grain.

Fasting and exercise, such panicked attempts at penitence. But every fibre of me resents these insults to my sentience.
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