New Version of 'To My Muse'

To My Muse

Draft_3

By: Chase L. Currie

With the help of Larry Sorkin

I stand a man of my bitter age,

lost with a cold shadow,

dreaming of a warm dent to hide in from a frozen mid-

night sun, never believing you where there,

sitting, walking, sleeping among my visions.

My eyes lost in your footprints on my

shatter dreams, there in the glory of my eyes

was you, speaking the words of a dreamer.

You found me

in the Black Forest walking
with my shadow, hiding from the light. What a fool
I have been, what a fool I am, thoughts

of you spinning in my mind

leaking from my lips.

Bleeding my heart dry of my broken soul,

My hands build the dream of you

as you whispers what you want me to make you into

my bones crack, and I - - -

fear, what the thundering sound of my heart means,

a foot step, just one, another taken,

closer to a doom. I know is around the bend.

Hand and hand, My Lovely Muse

you lead me down a path,

I am unsure of, questioning every sentiment.

What does this all mean?

In the eyes of a dreamer

does is mean I will wake,

Only to find an empty canvas, waiting for you to step in?