Every once in a while, our muse takes a step back to make room for an outside inspiration. This was the case with mine, when I read a poem she had penned and sought out … and found, something in the same vein. I was inspired instantly and I felt the words flow … slowly at first and then in a torrential rush.
To my muse, I dedicate this piece. Coincidentally, my muse is also my angel though she resides not within my pocket, but in my heart … within my very soul. My muse has been there in times of joy and pleasure and also in those times of sadness and intense agony. I certainly would be nothing without her.