Muse Me

There is nothing like a woman to help the artist’s hands.
She takes what she desires until the artist fully expires,
Leaves him to die right before everyone’s eyes.
She has left him to find his own way,
Inspiring him every moment of each day.
Painting, writing, singing, or playing the artist , the muse has left him creating, fighting.

Through deep thought he loved her at the end as much as the start.
He is finding a way to mend the battle that’s been fought.
All because she had to break his heart.


6 thoughts on “Muse Me

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