November 3, 2011


i am confounded

by my muse-

has she forsaken me

all these years?

or was it i

who forsook her?

did i create her in my

fevered imagination?

better yet, am i

her tragic deplorable


what catastrophe befell us that

tore us asunder?

her face, wraith-like and


perceived only by me,

vanished in but

a moment-

leaving a bleeding, gaping

wound in what was

once my soul-

now it is mirrored by

one thousand

depths of Hell…

save for that far-off,

dim and pulsing glow,

which erradicates

many of these



can it be?

is this my Goddess Muse

returning to my side?

without a word, our hearts


my hand feels her loving,

creative caress;

it guides my pen in the

free-flowing script

of our divine numerations;

the words, so long

caged inside my heart,

tumbling onto these

extensively neglected pages

in sweet, tremulous




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