Why is the only inspiration Love?
The world is full of horror and beauty,
That should make us cry to the Gods above,
And fulfill artistic holy duty.
For all my plays and your masterful art,
How did we end up in hate and alone?
You look for a girl to enact a part,
And I for a male to throw me a bone.
We both could make a shrink really wealthy,
Trying to find happiness at our age.
We’ve never had a romance that’s healthy,
And didn’t die in disappointed rage.
I hope these are the last lines you inspire,
And we find new Muses to light our fire.
This the eternal Truth you ask of Heaven.
ReplyDeleteFor what is Man this wondrous intellect,
Dispassioned reason, powers of persuasion given,
Too feeble to His heart or soul protect?
With age Man's body broken, feeble grows
The mind too, yet the soul will not be fooled.
With all else dimming, man's half-bleated prose
Refined through gathering dark, Yet Passion rules!
Indeed! What a wonderful reply and poem! Yes, passion rules!
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