The Muse (Howling Syn)

the page was white but is no longer - you found her or did she find you? forgive her for upsetting your world behold the beauty your pain has grown you're drowning in her pool of thorns catching your breath on the moon-driven tides and clinging to your words and colors like bits of her flesh you want to make whole and she cries with you but of joy as she sees the blood you've masterpieced in trying to understand why her labyrinthine ways ever reached you I was naught before you came. Now my life's a work of art. Let me always take the blame but let nothing tear us apart. the page was white but is no longer - you found her or did she find you? forgive her for upsetting your world behold the beauty your pain has grown she cuts the wings you never thought you had as you sculpt her out of eternity into a mortal figure of love and punishment and your false hope stretches but never breaks Come to me, my muse. Torture me with my lamentations. Cruel one, you shan't refuse. My genius lies on your passions. You're my soul, my miracle! My desperately beautiful! Angel divine of purest gold! My wonderfully painful! until the fall, she holds your name until the fall... before the fame