You are my Muse...

You are my Muse...
.
.
.
Those Words that dribble,
Off my Soul,
Strung together, they make a muse-
The Muse of my Life.

My quill dipped in life's ink.
At loggerheads, the events-
A racy path, it trailed.
Drunken desires soared,
At a time when I stood,
All alone.

On that bright spring morn,
As I felt you shine-
Dreams erupted in me,
And with a sigh, I knew-
Spring has indeed rushed in.

Locutions,
Of togetherness,
And of endless love,
Wool gathered-
Ah! My verse.

Glimpses into You,
My quill sketching a portrait-
Yours.
Everything seems a fantasy,
Long bygone.

The quill, bleeding still,
I take the parchment same,
To try and fill the rest.
Of losing and not finding,
Of the hurt, and the pain,
The living and the loving.
You and Me-
Done.

Done, I tell my quill too-
But it doesn't budge.
Spluttering the ink,
It twitters-

I wonder, if it yearns to tell me something?

Maybe, Yes-
I need to add one more expression,
In my parchment.
.
.
.
...Half-done.


Ah! You are my Muse, half-done...