The muse..

I am but a muse in this poet's dark nights. Only but a glimpse of an inspriration to spark a wonder of dark clouds. The bleeding shadow amidst the rays of the moonlight. Shake off this dying limb. Undig your nails from my frail skin. I have been but yours for all of my eternity and my nights have grown cold like the drops of rain. My heart has grown hard making itself strong but now its stopped beating and can no longer beat to my song. I have grown a shell with just me in it and the world stopped hurting for a whole joy of a minute. Be thou my shadow as I have been yours. I'd never wish that upon you for I and that endless torment have grown too fond. As the heavens look upon my tears, they see the world shiver in fear. Drop by drop the glass beads shatter. The ground is wet and the world seems better. Going about all of my mistakes I dream a dream and become a muse again.. Singing as your voice guides me through as the world is back in order and I am but yours to use. Then the day sinks in and I must wake up from the dream, i hop back into a distant echo of an angel's voice calling my name. As the sun rises higher in the sky the muse inside me dies.. The world seems quiet like nobody sees me. There are no more starlights to guide me. I am but my own and I am all I have until the moon comes and the shadow poet seeks me out and calls my name..