For days on end the poet –

In a mode of deeper groove –

Stuck to his goal

To finish his poetic legend about

A great love

That is rare

Like winning the lottery.

But even then

Since tales of great love

Have fascinated him from an

Early age

As he had to run the gauntlet

Of non-requitted love

From insincere but attractive


To pains within his soul

Burning up in hellfire.

But then a Muse with an attractive

Personality and good looks

Enjoyed love’s varied facets with

The bard

Sharing the art of poetry.

And Ludus became Eros

In a flight of the star-crossed lovers.

For years on end the poet has

Licked his wounds

And worked like a madman

To rid his being from perfect


That is only allowed as a peek-in

By mortals

A new Muse is to appear on

The horizon of his being

Moving towards a union

With his spiritual shadow.



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