WL Schuett

Quiet Obsession

She was born in a perfect 

moment in a garden of roses.

She was always more 

North Star than lover .

She grew up in the

watch fires of the mystic .

She envoked the beauty 

not given to nihilistic angels 

arguing over hell . 


The suns first rays 

fingered their way 

out onto the dusty road 

where forbidden love 

ambushed me and 

held me through my

long season of redemption.


Grace And quietude found 

me then . 

In her rapt absorbtion 

of prayer , She smiled . 


Silent as smoke from 

the woodstove.

She was the sorrow in 

the moon swollen tides 

but , would cry no more 

tears . 


My hours of creation 

reaped death from 

the lack of true 



Tap on my window,

knock on my door.

She is the music 

of my immortal soul .


With an awkward grace 

She finds me in 

my shallow creek. 

I can say no more.

  • Author: WL (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 19th, 2019 22:25
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views:
  • Users favorite of this poem: AmandaJade, myself and me.


  • Goldfinch60

    May that music remain in your soul forever.

  • Nicholas Browning

    This was a nice read!

  • myself and me

    Will the pain keep you alive. Feel you.

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