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The muse

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  • The muse

    THE MUSE
    In darkness she comes
    Creeping in your dreams
    softly she whispers
    her face a blur...
    The sun rises
    she is gone...
    You awake driven
    uncertain why ...
    You grab your pen
    the words flow...
    And from her visit
    the world is blessed
    You seek her out
    The one who haunts you
    Always she eludes ...
    yet she servers you well.
    She is your muse
    The source of encouragement
    Moving you forward
    Keeping you searching.
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