Every waking day
A dreadful reminder of my emptiness
The song in my head a tune of sorrow
I think i may have lost my muse
Before her life was like a rap
Fastpaced and aggressive
The beats a jumble of sounds
Nothing of beauty to be heard
Then she came along
And the rhythm came with her
Songs of ecstasy and poems of love
Creativity knew no bounds
Lyrics Scribbled on every sheet
Pages a hundred and counting
The songs never ceased
Until she said goodbye
And the sounds left with her
Now it's all dirge and elegy
The music an empty echo
Toneless and dead
The grave yard knows better rhythm
And now every waking day
When reality comes calling
I realise i have lost my muse.
© Manuel Wolfe