The Paper Witch
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The Paper Witch

A Poem on Creativity

The Paper Witch

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

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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