Muse

I had a muse once;

she was my inspiration,

she was my balance,

she was my addiction;

not many can understand

a relationship such as this,

it is far more complicated

than it appears,

much deeper than meets

the eye;

everyday I would delve

into bold, new worlds,

forbidden territories,

outlawed loves,

lost and forgotten lives,

each more fantastic than

the other,

each more twisted

than the next,

strangers meeting on

foreign shores,

whispered rumors,

destinations very few

can fathom,

laying them at her feet,

an offering of darkness

upon an altar of suffering

and sacrifice,

living for her approval,

bathing in her radiance,

hanging on her every breath;

she owned every fiber

of my existence;

she was kind,

she could have drained me

of every drop,

leaving nothing behind,

she could have destroyed me;

she released me instead;

sometimes I miss my muse,

the words came much easier

with her than without,

but I became stronger

as a result;

so I think perhaps

that it is better this way.

.

.