My muse

My mind wraps around your fingertips in an embrace that prays for some response more than what I could grasp from the hands of a stiff corpse underneath tattered linen.

I get what I am searching for as I let all my demons out and release these raindrops trapped firmly beneath my heavy crestfallen eyelids.

My demons are dragon eggs you breathe knowledge into when you inspire them to hatch far from me with a simple word and an ear to bear my burdens.

You help me find my emancipation.

Your cargo has been far from weightless on your spine and yet you sit up straight even with your fears breathing down your slender immaculate ivory neck.

Your scars exist but they are fading and so I hold on tight to you as my beloved muse beseeching gods to show me proof that the piper does not always win.

I pray for proof that his music does not always lead us to Hades and perfect damnation.

I pray for you.

My inspiration.

From http://pathospassion.blogspot.com-Chris latin's personal blog