what to do when your muse is gone, and you have only sung half your song

Let me set a boundary.
Setting a line between what is and what is seen;
Shading a curtain behind the scenes.

Little do you know that you've forgotten-
Internal eternal moments have always been.
Cast out like a net.

Disguising this world like a play.
If the world was the word,
It would be the ecstatic vibration of what they say.

But meaning gets lost
and it slips the tongue.
Surrounded by whispering lies, the truth is sung.

You're so broken you're on your knees
You're alive but not living
If I could I'd bring you back to life
And that's a promise and definitely a lie to be told

You are your own resurrection
I cannot help you at all
If you fall I will try to catch you
But how can I catch you, if you are only a phantom of what was?
You'd slip right through my fingers like grains of sand in an hour glass
Just like you did with my trust
It slipped right through your phantom fingers

How did I ever think you were real?
I should have known those whispered words were nothing but wasted air and time
I could have sung songs of whispered broken hearts instead of listening to the nothing that is you
So from now on I will sing of phantoms, phantoms like you
The ones that use souls up and tell lies and break people's trust
*I wish I knew just what you were from the start
But how could I when I was blind from seeing right through you from the heart?