The Cheap Muse


If an occurrence of choice he gets

He desires a memory to come alive

In conquest of finding a moment captured

He sat looking for an idea settled in his mind

The picture is blurry encased under whiff of alcohol

The conscience is clear within an idea of console

Never redeemed the dream he knew so well

His muse was cheap but the scheme was grand



He sculpted the clay like his own heart was on stake

Benign flutter of butterfly was the imagination of base

“Consider it done” his conscience spoke to him

Half a life thought is put into half a life of experience

Nothing prepared him for the greed to make it right

If not struck under the lust of oscillating time

“Consider it done” the lust spoke to him

With music blaring in his ears he shunned lust aside

Dedication he found in her thought sundry weren’t worth a dime

Configuring his mind in sync to his heart

He played with the form as he moulded heaven on earth

A dream all he had of a lone figure in meadows

One with great beauty veiled under shadows

He looks for her in the clay he bruised

Making a life out of an idea, his cheap muse


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