Just another string of words
attempting to feed arousal
and loosen the binds of reason

Another series of movements
and planned spontaneous
touching of the flesh to trigger emotion

Another path in an old direction
leading to the same place
with new scenery

(She is muse to many
yet where is her muse?)

Always wanting more than is offered
looking into places where eyes cannot see
where hearts do not beat

Walking upon stones of the past
tasting the same old air
when she breathes

She is victim to the slayer of repetition
a meal of passion's hunger
the quench of thirst to the few that can see

yet within...

How can she find a heart that beats for love
wandering the halls of dismay
destined to play the role of happiness
always performing on his stage

She wonders how
this is painful torment
of not knowing how to love
and having never truly loved
came to be her play

A lifetime of emptiness is all she knows
is it truly what she wants
or has she just given up
on tomorrow and today

What she craves most of all
does it really exist
outside of dreams
or is it all a waste of time

In the sky
the bird is going for a walk
and we see a majestic flight
but we do not see
the boredom in it's eyes

Still she dreams of flying away
to some foreign shore
a place beyond the reach
of all she knows

yet when she looks around
she is home