The Holiday of My Muse
I thought we were friends; maybe something more
She could quell a blaze or make the flames roar
Between every trial I watched her strength grow
Always at my side through each turbulent row
But then so many came so fast; storms so severe
One after another, til there were no more tears
No sorrow no hate no love; only echoes
I stood alone. Her voice lost in the throes
I searched inward and saw every bruise
With each break and rip I stood accused
So much blood, too much damage to truly know
Which was the cause; which gave the grueling blow
It was then that I saw; a fate she did not choose
She wasn't on holiday ...life had killed my muse
Copyright © Fj Thomas | Year Posted 2023
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