My Lost Muse

My Lost Muse

I have a muse
Which my mind likes
To abuse

For everyone knows now
How everything
Went down

Yet here I sit on a throne of thorns
Without my mistress
No art is to be bourne

I contemplate my history
My future to me
A mystery

Yet I collect broken charms
For the necklace
I will wear

Oh everything I’ve done
I’ve taken
A souvinier

I ornament myself with trinkets
Oh I wish
They would just drown me

But now
I sit
On this lonely throne

I’m happy with myself
But I want that
Someone else

I want her, my muse
For art
I want to choose

All the things I have written
I’ve damned myself to be

On my throne, this throne
I hold my head and

I make promises and speak to her
Whisper to the clouds my

I want it to be carried
Be ferried
To the place they might travel

But no
I know
I chose this happening

So I sit on my throne
I paint for my muse
I hope to go home

Express her, impress her
Show her
I am true

But Themistocles taught me
I’m part of a bigger

So I sit
On my throne
Wishing to go home

While she’s out there somewhere
Making someone else
As happy as can be

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