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Unto Our Fallen Muse

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Tuesday, July 24, 2001

FREE VERSE UNTO A SHACKLED HEART:

To Drift Apart:

They hated her, yet I loved her.
They were unkind, yet she was generous.
They persecuted her, yet she remained strong;
Or at least she tried.

Yet deep within, her soul was dying:
And I could do nothing, save watch her slow decay.

She was such a gift to an unforgiving world.
She passed her light around for all to see;
Yet they wore her down, and she gave up,
Because her light had gone.

In the end, even we parted, because of how we both had changed.

With few tender words, and a short embrace, she left my life,
To once again return unto her own.

She writes me now, in her familiar way of saying nothing.
It seems the more I read, the more she writes, the less she says,
The further we two continue to drift apart.

As we drift our separate ways,
I pause to remember our jointed past.
Our first, most magical moments,
Our softest, most sentimental sayings.

Our young and reckless attraction,
That had spawned an interlude which couldn’t last.
It causes me to feel as though I should have made it right somehow,
Yet she was clear and correct in saying:

“It’s called falling out of love.”

Yet, even though we both agreed,
Saying that I am not allowed to,
I very truly miss her.