The Muse

You will ask me for reasons fair, And I know I have none, And even if I did, I have not the words that would suffice, So I will let you go, And I will let you be, And all those wonderful things, That we could be, For you are pure, And divine and true, And all my demons, Shall leave with me, I will pick up my pieces, So vile and bleak, Scattered like thorns, Beneath your feet, For I am too profane, And you too divine, I'll strangle my delusions, These dreams of mine, They scream and yell, From ...