There’s a voice deep inside me
  still trying to get out

Ignoring my pleadings,
  it screams and it shouts

Its call is the loudest
  on those darkest of nights

When my mind seeks new refuge
  from Seraph’s delight

I toss and I turn,
  but it speaks louder still

As its words start to age
  from new vision distilled

No barter or denial
  will turn back its call

The Muse is on fire
  —my pen not to stall

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)