Gather all my magic here
And lay my soul bare
On an altar of coffee rings and inkblots
Let me commune with my muse
Invite her to possess every part of my being
Forsake my essence
And let her pick up the pen in my stead
The scratching on the paper
A soothing whisper and a battlecry
To go forward, ever forward
I feel her pull at my hair
And claw at my stomach
My hands reaching for the words
And scrambling to capture them
Before they fade
Into the darkness of memory
I want to scream, to cry
As every turn of a completed page
Caresses every inch of my soul
Luring me forward, ever forward
This divine union of artist and inspiration
The rest of the world falls silent
In my muse's trance of frenzied creation
A wave of satisfaction throughout my being
With the crinkle of each turned page
My words racing faster than my mind
My writing an arcane language of a sacred ritual
The rapture of artists since the beginning of time
The magic lasting as long as it takes
Or as long as she sees fit
The energy leaves as suddenly as it arrives
Regardless of whether the creation is finished
The pen could stop cold
The words could suddenly vanish
Or I could fall exhausted
Into a pensive silence
Empty and complete
The muse has departed
The ritual done
The circle open
But never broken
Blessed be
