My muse

My muse sees no angels
And I write to summon them
Her rocky journey
Cushioned only
By the pages
Of my poetry

My muse is in chains
A slave to fear
Tangled in a web of lies
And I write
To free her

My muse is confined
To a dark box
Of "no hope"
And with my pen
I pierce holes
To let the light in

My muse is strong
And I write to remind her
Of her fragility
And her ability to comfort
A troubled poet
With her delicate touch

My muse is often weak
And I write to awaken
Her inner strength
Because with her
My inspiration lies
And her spirit
Births my poems
A symbiotic relationship
Between my pen
And her emotions

My muse lives for me
And I for her
I write to thank her.
Her breathe
Her smile
Her eyes
Give me life
And these words
My sacrifice to her