The Muse, In My Quill

The Muse, In My Quill I hadn't realized my penning going on Before the ink ran dry of my Quill. If I had just started with my array, For these words that I had written. May have been on some other penned display. I assure you, though, that you are the muse, For today in this world that has become confusing. Was it a destined write to be, The story told of a sea of words still in my Quill, in me? If these words hadn't come when they did, Jotting down everything rolling through the Quill Of my pen so swiftly amid. I can't give up too soon in my quest just yet, For the display, that I had arrayed, Of these words that come to display, I write, that might take me today to the Gazette.