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My Muse
What is peering over my shoulder as I write? |
Sword riding safely in his sheath, Chainmail securely fastened on his body, He peers over my shoulder, As I sit at the keyboard Or put pen to paper. Will he be kind to me today? Will the words flow freely? Or will every word be a struggle? A two handed sword too heavy For my weak arms to lift. Will my villains be slain By his skilled bladework? Or will I be unable to write a word? Some days he is kind. A chivalrous knight from tales of old. Sometimes he fights me, The black knight that everyone boos, But always he is mine. My knight. My inspiration. My Muse. There is a companion piece to this story: "Stop That Knight!" |