I can no longer find my Muse.

I can no longer find my muse.

She has travelled in a rush.

From me, she has refused      

Prayers like a goddess so crushed

As to reject a sacrifice.

I can no longer sing.

Like a nightingale turned

To an owl, I can only hoot.

The complexity of poetry,

I cannot think on

As my lack faze me.

I cannot understand

The my difficulty to show

The inner feelings

 That jump out

Of my consciousness, when I

Am trying to express the universal

Problems that affects the balance

In this strata of rocks, minerals and air.

The pressure to pass on into the future

Has me by the throat,

As I try to intimate my mind

Into sharing vague theories,

Which I cannot explain

Due to the disorganized thought processes

That confuse my brain

Each time I try.

photo credit:http://www.theoi.com/Ouranios/Mousai.html