My muse has left me

.

Inspired by Rimbaud and baudelaire.

***
My muse has left me.
Alone,aroused and unfulfilled.
The embers of Promethean idea remain aglow.
My wrist is frustrated
with empty passion.
The brooding of unfertilised spermazoa-
potentiate and stagnate.
creation impatiently girds in my loins .
Expectations of intercourse with my muse
consume me like the worms on moist soil of dead husks
drying out and eviscerating from inside.
Listless self absorbed misery
sickly and withered
Amputated from life.
The vacuous escape of self
through my gargantaun punctured self.