Muse :
"Move over fool and watch a Muse Master
at work"


      In the blackness of my soul
      I sit listening to far off thunder
      As inside it also rolls

      For long long seconds
      There is no sound
      Then begins the brumble bound

      Quicken flashes does my mind's
      Hindsight cause flashes white
      Of the truth hidden by the night

      It is perhaps then I stir
      And begin to think of you
      A soul's ***** as if a burr

      Then the truth will crash
      And I slow count to ten
      Before I hear rumble within

      Then comes a calm
      No more flash or sound
      I have burried my thoughts of you


Me :
"I don't know ," I say. "Maybe by tomorrow's
light . . . . I'll have a say ."

Then the muse did stare
With such a cold cold glare
All the fluids in my glass froze

There she was
Then she wasn't
And she vanished
Into the cold thin air