Muse

Yes, I will write poetry for you,
every single day.
Regardless if that is the way,
no matter if you leave me or stay,
I will write and my love will linger in the air.

I write mostly, as art is the aching heart,
that speaks when lips can’t part.
I write, because angels ask, what’s behind my sorrow.
I write, so you know, you are loved today, tomorrow.

Read every word, knowing, regardless of moments,
through the good times and torment,
in someone’s soul, you are oxygen.
I write for you, as you, my darling, are life.

If time is your biggest desire,
let me write physics out, dream the universe tired.
Let me hold all the fire, my fierce fighter, which you so passionately light,
let me hold it, so tight, so that you can breathe a little and fill your chest with life.

My love, be.

Live, laugh, love, grow, dream and take in every view, this world has to offer.
The same world which envies you, your beauty, every smile you get to author.

You are to me, water to my thirst,
I’d live a dozen lives and you’d always come first.

To the strangers eyes, a poet is the cursed.
Looking out of broken glass, cracked, ready to be burst.
Only you and I know, let them judge.
I am too imprisoned, writing every verse,
in the comfort of your shadow, my beautiful, little violent rose.

All too fragile, heart softer than it shows.
You’d look at one hundred eyes and I and God, the only ones who know,
what’s behind your green, when your curtains come to close.
Take it all in, everything will be alright.

I can not write away the night,
nor can I change my stubborn mind.
All I can do, is hold you tight,
with every single word I write.

And if your love has left your chest,
I wouldn’t change a single letter.
You are simply the best thing,
that has come from heaven.

Your name, an infinite ocean,
is the only sound that calms within.
I hear it every now and then,
I wish I’d learned to swim.

Cursed are those, who never get to see you shine,
those who haven’t looked inside your eyes,
those who haven’t felt the warm kiss of your shining smile.
Cursed are those, who never get to leave their minds,
blind, in love and chasing tides.

How terribly sad for those, who never got to find, you.