Personal Psychic Wings

Personal psychic landscapes,
sprinkled with red land mines.
Darting and narrowly escapes,
around exploding real minds.

The muse lives at some times,
beside the common man & all.
An intricate balance of rhymes,
the kind that come with a fall.

Emotions are like aether waves,
ebbs with a naturally good flow.
Taking and leaving Plato‘s caves,
with each receding stop and go.

Alone with you on a stormy night,
stranded on the bridge of rings.
Linking death to an immortality,
when we jumped I grew wings.

remix of ‘Muse’ by Regina Walker


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