My Muse

Who is writing this?

Have I a muse upon me

or have I become one?

My pen is fluttering away

faster than my meager mind

I feel like a blank note

then where is this coming from?

It feels like a narration

I feel frantic

yet I do not know about what

my thoughts are whirling like the wind

I am aware, of what I am

but the rest

is spiraling out of control

my heart is speaking a language

my mind does not understand

I know what i feel

but language is so finite.

 

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