(written 5 years ago)
Will you tire of the un-boring?
Will you sicken of magic?
When the long light ride
Stretches it’s beam
A little too far,
Will you leap into the dark
Like a tired moth?
They call me muse,
Many a great men.
But I have mine own, black pen.
They say, you sharpen my knife!
Woman, my toes are lit!
My craft is on high!
I see beyond the tyranny
of my sel…
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