Bright Center and Dark Edges

She was the bright sunshine,
in the lives of many sad souls.
But she was neither yours nor mine;
she belonged to a facade of control.
Her beauty was in her words,
but eloquence evaded her tongue.
Her smiles were like painted birds-
always flying; never perched, never sung.
Existing only at the center,
she fades around the edges,
which, to non-existence, tether.
Among people she builds bridges.
Inside her own, she is destruction abound;
inside her soul, nothing but self hate is found.

The Muse

There he sat with a glass of poison in hand,
an acetic smile on his handsome face
promised nothing but a life of disgrace.
Swirling the red liquor, he appeared so grand.
He was the color, the taste, in a life bland.
Raised eyebrow; seductive look in place,
he was ready to inspire and lace,
with art and literature, all of land.
He opened his mouth and Music sprung out,
he breathed and colors bled,
burning the Canvas, igniting the Pen!
But when questioned, he birthed Doubt,
and when challenged he said,
‘Leave the politics to mad men.’

A/n: The last line is from ‘Buddha for Mary’ by 30 Seconds from Mars, a song that inspired me with every single verse. On the other hand, the image was retrieved from