A madness Present

Oh, what a present madness

the shade of purple poses

like a statue of a muse

ready to be kissed;

where’s the muse going?

Perhaps to the same place

we all pretend to visit:

the freedom from this madness;

Something is hiding

behind the purple curtains;

a mystery in black and gold

and a face that freezes time;

Thoughts coming to view the iris screen

pondering the muse’s existence;

maybe they find another one

who awaits the wanderer’s love;

Or, there’s loneliness

as a wrapped gift under a tree

calling us at dawn:

“hey, come here an open me up!” She claims;

Art starts to breathe

within the purple muse;

where is she going?

An art that flies away towards its freedom.