Beauty and Catastrophe

haunting

Enchanting.

Haunting.

Dwelling in here is beauty and catastrophe…

limitless imagination…

bountiful frustration.

The moon resides more often than the sun.

An enticing tide,

Poetic ride.

The beast finds me no matter where I run.

Power finds me,

controls me, elicits behaviors

exceeding the one I call me.

Seraphs in heaven weep and pound

their fists…

Even they in their bliss,

can’t bring me peace.

Even I, being on bent knees,

Peace eludes me.

©thebipolarmuse August 2011

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thebipolarmuse

All is, or will be revealed in thebipolarmuse.com

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