Mortal elation
Lust of loins
Anguish of mind
The poet’s soul
Rips through
The body
A bloody pen
Fashioning a symphony
Of impassioned prose
The poet
A composer of
Profound inspiration
I am a writer. Therefore, I am not sane. -Edgar Allan Poe
Mortal elation
Lust of loins
Anguish of mind
The poet’s soul
Rips through
The body
A bloody pen
Fashioning a symphony
Of impassioned prose
The poet
A composer of
Profound inspiration
Reaching that high
When all seems to
Piece together
Time is in sync
Lovers in tune
Life is bliss
Seduce me
With your eyes
Tantalize me
With your words
Push me
To the edge
And hold me there