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From the Strangled Muse

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Words start flowing

shortly before the tears



life looks up for a moment

and a smile spreads



a sudden urge to dance in the rain

an urge to sit alone



the feeling of the pen against paper

the nessiccity of the prose



running from the imaginary

doubting the real



everything turns gray

turns purple



life makes sense

then falls apart



when goverened

by the strangled muse



sight is only a suggestion

only the sad songs play in our ears



life and love become together

and without one, we live in fear



a voice inside that keeps singing

even when our voice is long gone



our heart beat in rythym to our footsteps

our minds in sync with the world



everything goes back to you

when I listen to the stangled muse




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