Letter To My Muse

The world is a scary place, Muse, Among the millions of beings, who, Are supposedly like me, There is none whom I can genuinely trust! None whom I can open my soul's garden to None whom I can show the beats of my heart to None to whom I feel connected, None who can save me from Earth's murky swamps None who can promise me that the afterlife I am seeking Is given, for real! There remains only you, Muse, Being made of an unknown essence, Being who watches over me As dutifully as a lover would, over his beloved As patiently as a mother would, over her child, As lovingly as God Himself would, over his devotees! Muse, being made of human essence is overwhelming Living feels like a walk in a war zone Where the millions of persons who are like me Simply wish to see me brought down! The way to my relief lies through you, Muse, I desire to take the plunge I desire to be with you We'll roam through the cosmos Free, light, exalted, suffocated with joy We'll cross the forbidden borders of Existence Strong, knowing that none can vanquish us When our hands are joined together! Muse, I shall keep pouring my words on paper, In due respect to your presence governing my life I shall keep pouring them, As such soothes the pain of mundane pricks I shall keep pouring While waiting, For then when you shall grab my arms And lift me out, Out of this revolving madness which has always Failed to prove to me its meaning and its purpose! I shall wait, Muse, With a sturdy resignation As my belief in my faith allows me not To cross the lines before my set time! I shall keep waiting, With a raging passion burning in me A passion so like the fire that burns In the heart of any woman, awakened to The fact that surrounding her, Is mere nonsense!