Disenchanted Muse

My muse did her fealty recuse My honor she did stealthily reconnoiter My discourse was grounds for divorce Finding my writing no longer enlightening My blithe parlance no longer my mistress did entrance With my prose she did forthrightly dispose Each short she did subsequently abort Each regaling verse did prudently disburse Each perforated line truncated with lackluster shine Each conjured sentence only increased my penance Each glamorous byline she did smugly decline   Each dilated phrase with a bridling border did encase   Each gilded stanza a burnished extravaganza yielding no artful bonanza Each tethered word coagulated into a stolid curd Each bloated quote sunk my creative float deeper in the moat  Each lofty rhyme labeled too smarmy and sublime My metric time no longer struck a concordant chime Each literary device neatly spliced would not even a novice entice  Each repetitive, stagnant metaphor made my verse a bore Each strained, tortured simile engendered no empathy Each supplanted metonymy a shock wave lobotomy