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When the muse calls. (Free verse) by darby pyn A gilded flash of inspiration stirs the blood from itâs congealed
state and loosens the
rivets from my mask to let the light in and bleeding to start. the
dialog of
my surroundings loose shape. language is no longer noise but music. the
catharsis
needs resolve. all obstacles dissolve and all inhibition disappear when
this apparition
appears. I will be selfish. starving for substance. focused to the point
of
blindness when my eyes are shells and my fingers have sight. this state
of devotion is demanded when the muse calls.
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