Abandoned
beloved muse
My beloved, she has abandoned me.
What’s left is a stark white canvas
that repels application of hue or color.
Hopelessly, I gaze into the bleak emptiness.
She is gone,
It seems never to return.
I utter useless prayers.
I know they are futile.
I offer them anyway.
Some lifeless tome tells me so.
I know why she left me.
I was not true to her love.
I was not honest.
I lied when only the truth was needed.
I stole for no reason than
I did not trust the unseen to provide.
Though she is gone,
It is her that guides my pen.
Truly.
I cannot touch her;
though the void where she once was
I caress with insatiable hands.
I cannot kiss her;
though the memory of her lips
excites my whole being still.
I cannot confide in her;
though her spectre
hangs on every word and phrase.
I did not know
that my eternal soul
required of me
devotion to truth.
I was lazy.
I was indifferent.
I was blind to her love’s grace.
I did not appreciate her presence,
until her absence crushed my heart.
My beloved, she has abandoned me.
Only now is my love true.
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