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Though we share this humble path, alone
How fragile is the heart
Oh give these clay feet wings to fly
To touch the face of the stars

Breathe life into this feeble heart
Lift this mortal veil of fear
Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears
We'll rise above these earthly cares

Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me


Monday, March 12, 2007

Because I'm Told to Do So

In the comments on another post I talked about the Muse being slightly upset with me. I must have been a good boy because she just dropped an interesting story bone in my head. Yes. Dark, foreboding, like that dream where you're trying to get someplace and just can't seem to get there. All of it. He he he. Yes, my darling, I'm listening, it is written down. From the ash bed stirs the flame waiting for tinder to ignite.

2 comments:

Todd Wheeler said...

Nice muse. If she starts writing honey-do lists though ... Just saying, stay away from the DIY home centers. ;-)

Steve Buchheit said...

She does that as well. Oh, wait, that's my wife whispering in my ear while I'm asleep. :)

The only "honey-do"s the muse give me are, "Why the (explicative) aren't your writing this story." And then the guilt trip starts. The huffing, the toe tapping, the stares, all until I get it out on paper.