You were my beautiful muse,
the person who created each poem and letter,
that i write from the bottom of my heart,
about our experience some bad, some were better.
you were just my beautiful muse,
who encouraged me to express myself in this way,
i did as you asked me and i began to write,
but i just stopped the day you went away.
the day you went away my cherished friend,
my dreams shattered the ink faded from my fingertip,
and my world like the curtain in the temple,
from the bottom to the top began to rip.
how can i write such beautful things now,
the cold soil is your home and you never got to choose,
your finally resting place among the soil,
you were just my beautiful muse.
