Muse Leads only once

Words that flow incomprehensibly
Fall as tear drops on paper
Seem to arrange themselves right
Ready to be placed in proper sight

Does my muse wake me at day or dreams?
In the closeness of rush hour
My breathe exhales with yours
Waiting for the exit stop to arrive

Crescendo touched and halts at stoop
As lovers part, a magnum opus emerges
Sadness fills the writer’s own,
For now he does not understand
His spirit, language of emotion said
Never to return where his muse had led

However Forlorn

The follicles that acknowledge
Presence felt in the upraising
Shuddering/Surrendering to the physical truths
Immensely profound
Carnal however born

Water dripping through the wetness
Slithering within the zenith
Cravings of unbearable intensity
Unreachable infinity
Carnal however sown

Visions of the emotion
As a person in being
Twilights of least measure
Copulating silence
Carnal however torn

Freed from senses
Slap scarring the iris
Restricted to melancholy
Learned realities
Carnal however forlorn