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literature
Muse's Call
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Literature Text
Where now is her siren song,
My heart is filled with longing,
How can I stir my weary soul,
Without the muse’s calling.
The pages crumble, the ink is dry,
The flame is slowly dying,
Regret weighs heavy in my heart,
As I mourn the poet’s parting.
My heart is filled with longing,
How can I stir my weary soul,
Without the muse’s calling.
The pages crumble, the ink is dry,
The flame is slowly dying,
Regret weighs heavy in my heart,
As I mourn the poet’s parting.
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