That person is me, photo was shot unintentionally at the museum when I was taking photos of history documentary to show my used-to-be muse.
And now you are no longer my muse
You are resting beside someone new
I am afraid your deep eyes would draw me to feel
So I let go, all things which leave me clues
Now everything turns back to nothing
As we go back to our beginning
Strangers, loneliness within
Yet I am happy, you are lifting her chin
You would do what we have done
And even what we have not yet done
I came at first, aiming your fear with gun
But I got drunk, and let my guard gone
It was me, right, throughout this phase
The only one to treasure its grace
You did not talk, while my heart was so placed
That I bought into paradox I made
And the stories never end in glee
Guessed it was the omen, somehow I could see
You are like a bird, you need to be free
I am like a nut, that the squirrel trees
A nut and a bird, fate isn't meant to be
However, nut's heart, "But what about me?"
But what about me? Still, what about you?
If one gains the glory, the other means blue
If you chose your fairy, I would take that cue
Now you have your honey, and I lost my muse
However, it draws me to feel
The memories, in my head, so true.
My crazy sapphire nutshell
A poem for a nutshell
Loving you by the grant behind the citadel?
Beside my lyre in the moonbeam or the moon.
Hold her a power in its electric fire!
Within that monarch high smile, where he had not
Something in the open air I thought upon you.
Light as the yellow fire of an golden time.
Inspired by Edgar Allan Poe, Emily Dickinson, and Walt Whitman
A poem for the sapphire nutshell
Was it glow had to thank for the moon
Or was it sparkling itself in the lyre's tune?
Was it loved by the lyre artist?
Or just the air made his mind twist?
Would he reach what was hidden behind the monarch high smile?
Or would he enjoy the fragile light of her passed golden life?
Was it loved by the lyre artist?
Whether she left thee in sweet despair;
Blunt the bright touch of her magic slide,
Light of the night on the midnight air!
She feels the power to strike a blow;
Making the way to each a poem,
Steal in my lips a heavenly glow,
You are lost to the billows of Sea!