Muse, I want…
To write and paint, sing and dance,
To let go of life’s restraint, and take a chance,
To embrace all life brings,
Succumbing to the finer things.
But I cannot. I sit before a canvas white,
Palette of colors once bright,
Now abandoned, void of hues.
Brushstrokes falter, as misery ensues.
Muse, oh, fickle lover!
Inspiration there one moment, has sought another,
Fluttering away in the breeze, just out of reach.
Of my outstretched hand, of my broken speech.
Where have you gone?
With my heart, you took my song,
And every ounce of motivation strong.
I feel your absence, a pain that blinds,
Pulling at what’s left of my mind.
Muse…I cannot go on.
I have no way to mourn,
My heart may cease to beat,
And leave my masterpiece,
Incomplete
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Lou.Summers 