Inspiration is a flick'ring flame
An unreliable source of light;
A wholly random gambling game
Played long and deep into the night.
Inspiration is a fickle muse --
Her beat is not a steady sound;
It syncopates, a mournful blues
Listened to, but never found.
Her countenance fills me with glee
A lover's kiss, a friendly hug --
Yet when I taste Her, I always see
Inspiration is a bitter drug.
I go to suck her tender teat
But I'm lapping at an empty bowl --
An oasis, dried in desert heat
That could never quench my dying soul.
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