Be "Mused"

Where has she gone that traitorous bitch
Itching, fixing to leave at the first chance
Glancing directly into the mid summer sun
Unbidden desires blinded by big ambitions

Missionary position overused and long clichéd
Betrayed by the lure of the exotic movements
Monuments made from fine silks and satin panties
Ranting vulgar promises from smooth thighs

Skies gone dark, speckled with forbidden clouds
Shrouded by the underside of the bastard moon
Soon she’ll come back to my bleeding pen
When greatness is placed on the succulent table

Fabled to bring forth the new beginning of time
Rhyming in perfect sequence in pure metric bliss
Kisses along the curved line of her perfect cheek
Reeking of dissension and a falsely claimed prophet