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When the muse calls. (Free verse) by darby pyn

A gilded flash of inspiration stirs the blood from it’s 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.

Dovina 17-Jun-05/10:32 AM
Not a poem, but some good thoughts that could be made into a poem.




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