A safe haven to my discreet chaos,
The starry night sky of my indefinite cosmos,
Sanctum to my soul and ambrosia to my thought,
An immaculate embodiment of everything I sought,
The flawless petals to my wilting rose,
The lone muse to my infinite prose,
My guiding light, my beckoning star,
Life is not what keeps me alive, you are.
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Wordalmania
Poetry#14 on 8 March 2017 Poetry, Prose. Words bled from the very soul. Musings of an occasional poetess. 'Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words. It is an abstract art, and I am, but a mere artist ' - Edgar Allan Poe ©wordalmaniac 2016
