The calling

You are the muse,
who I desire to become my work of art.
You are the music,
I want to give to my self thirsty self,
An illusion of truly profane love,
An accumulation of feelings drifting away.
An image of you haunting my mind,
My body remains motionless,
when I hear your footsteps.
I call you in my dream,
A shadow appears, of what I could have had.
In a hourglass that has come to an end,
An infinity with two people,
A glass bottle falls on the ground,
shattering into thousands of pieces.
Between white mists, wearing white clothes
I’m meeting you in my mind,
And I’m emptying my soul drinking.
Between heaven and earth,
A falling angel.
Between you and me,
I choose me.

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