Muster My Muse

September 5, 2011
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The words form confused chaos on my page,
And darkness slowly seeps into my mind.
I sing just like a bird trapped in a cage,
Muted by bars of a transparent kind.
As a believer, apt sage had been I,
But found no path in life’s rhythm and rhyme,
Since the fire of my soul dies by and by,
My thoughts slip back to a far better time.
I so yearn to fly but have two clipped wings,
Lost on a forked trail without direction.
My heart is no longer mine only king.
Right and wrong encounter resurrection,
Sparking passion for my spirit to graze,
Ethereal specs to see through this thick haze.

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