O Muse Sublime

o muse of trembling ardor
perched upon what precipice
wax adoring or abhorring
beauteous capricious wisp
beckon thoughts to naught surrender
fleeting free fall fraught with flame
solace in reckless abandon
consequence of hazard aim
intervals hail flippant airs
qualms aloof and proof left scorned
paradox of quine requiem
to what behest dost now adorn

Author: Max Meunier

Feminist. Ailurophile. Musician. Poet. Human.

1 thought on “O Muse Sublime”

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