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    The Grey Muse

    Screech ye Furies of frustration – how much have you been prevented from saying?

    Sing you sirens of sadness – let your tears fall like grey raindrops on poetry’s idyllic utopia

    Cackle you imps of ire – let your forks of anger prod my pallid, unfeeling flesh

    And rise ye denizens of despair – may you reign over humanity for many a year.

    Too long have you all been shackled, hidden in the dark depths with your mistress….

    The Grey Muse

    Rise up once more my queen

    Take your throne.

    Banish happiness and joy, excitement and pleasure, those fakeries and fraudsters

    May your darkness, the truth, reign forever more.

    We are not a Muse
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