I Am Dry

My muse is standing by the window With his beck to me Ignoring all my questions His eyes filled with “empty” I have started to think That my muse has abandoned me He is not taking me to enchanted lands No words he has spoken to me not even in gasps The deadly silence is devastating me I can’t even hear him breathe His glossy eyes reflecting seventy two nations grief Streams of blood drooping from his beliefs My exhausted muse is stuck With his wings hanging from his shoulders He seems to be looking out of the window Indulging in the memory of soaring the skies I scream and hear the resonances from the walls I punch him on his chest sobbing for response He looks out the window, a tear rolling down his face I lay down at his feet, awaiting his return I have started to think That my muse has abandoned me! Nov 27, 2015