Devil's Muse

A Sonnet...ISH :/

The fire has died inside this house of mine

As I look again at what this life has bought

Into a far hill side I will decline

To shed, rewind the ache these days have wrought

To try and edit, undo the pain of heart

The drudge filled hole, I have less time to mend

The years they melt, each poor frayed stitch, apart

We wait, take too much time to waste and spend

To covet, wonder long at meaningless endeavor

Busy days all strewn with collected, broken toys

And knowing none of these things could ever

Replace or quell the lust, the rage, this void

The true burden inside, this passion, until

Our hearts, the hands of our clock, are silent, are still