My muse, where have you run off to?
Where did you go from me?
If you wanted to depart,
I would have let you leave.
But the heavens did decide
to make you run away,
and my settling redeemer
brought new life to me.
It wasn’t that I so disliked
you, muse of mythic grief,
but the pull of my heart retreated
to a different kind of pain.
I now recall what I gave up
to start this journey long,
and now my fear has increased more,
but I am too far gone.
Yet hope continues time again
to give me gentle eyes,
and bid me follow a little further
into the new domain.
This mystery I now pursue
though it punishes my flesh,
and I do not believe my muse
would wish me any less,
for greatly has my spirit thrived
within this blind escape,
and maybe on one quiet day
will appear the thing I seek.
And all the torture I have born
will not have been in vain.
Alas, the sunrise in my heart
will burst it at the seams.
really good work, Kev.
that I am your muse