The Muse
Her cage has bars of branching neurons
from behind which she sings like a canary
and screeches like a harpy.
Her feathers are dry and dusty
her claws overgrown
her muscles atrophied:
she hasn't flown in so long
that her wings are only a memory.
With wild eyes
she watches the world go by
until the moment's right.
She'll break free
Swoop over peaks of poised pens
Dive through the valleys between pages
Dip her beak and talons in ink
And scratch her voice across the paper
A selection of unpolished creative fiction ranging from a few sentences to portions of larger writing projects. All characters and content are (c) Lauren Brooks. Please read post "A Novel Idea: Introduction" before reading & commenting.
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