Muse (Chained)

That muse of mine has been silent for a time

But no more

Chained to me, chained to this place I see

She’ll talk for sure

She’ll inspire me

Be it with blood, or glory to come

I’ll have a story from her lips

Something new, nothing old

Or else it’s time to leave her, my old muse

There in that darkness, that bitter cold

If that’s the case I’ll find something new

A muse that will speak, and speak to be heard

Not this weak willed thing that stutters and whispers

Incomplete tales and stories that could never be told

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