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.
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