Music and Women

'Music and Women' Music is furniture A subtle presence to detain silence's torture The best piece being the understated overture. Women begin to inflict me Prick at me with clawing felinity Hurting me, murdering me slowly. My mind is unkempt Desires and whims are thus left Ne'er to be sated, adding to acute discontent. Bereft and spiritually in debt I'm trapped in penning many a tedious triplet One after the other, minute by minute. Their sole purposes to decorate time Embellish space, fill a line But nothing more, nothing else to consign. Ringing in unison to a bell's chime.