THE MUSE
Pre:
You, muse, have hit me, STRIKE AGAIN!
Oh, show me Inspiration's Den
Where tales of wonder, love and glory
are found in every little story
For but a word from you, I pray
Come to me muse, and come to stay!

Center:
Make haste, you writer, you must know
When muses strike, one can't be slow
So, grab your pen and write it down
While your muse still dons earthly gown
So fair and dear, she shines her light
Upon you in the dead of night
To her you must devote your life
Through sickness, health and earthly strife
And when your days are all but gone
Your pen and you have fused to one
With pages filled and more to come
You'll finally have found your home
The place in which you store your heart
Where dreams have played their vital part
You'll finally have been a man
Who writes and writes with pen in hand
And so your muse will leave you then
(She's) Never to be seen again
She'll soar among the stars so high
She'll look for you and then she'll sigh
She'll say; "There was a noble one
I was with him, yet now I'm gone
The writings though, he did back then
They'll never see the likes again."
And with that breath, oh, she will die
The stars will sing her lullaby
For neither muse nor man survives
but with each other - all their lives
She'll die but be reborn again
Her spirit finds another friend
Another one will start anew
He'll write cause she compels him to
And so the circle turns its way
And leaves us all with naught to say.

Post:
For it is but their way of life
Through sickness, health and all their strife
And who are we to choose their way
If they wish, then with us they'll stay
Be you aware, though, writing one
The muse who holds you will be gone

Be you aware though for some day
The muse who holds you, is away