When inspiration strikes,
The audience expectant,
The muse unyielding,
The ‘I’, unfamiliar, caught between the two.
My muse, my mistress. The audience, the Achilles’ heel.
Both so fickle, can either ever be unwaveringly faithful?
When given a fence,
To lock in the muse or mend that weakness?
In lust, in love; my muse, I desire.