0
The Lyrical Goddess
With her sure-hand
Right hand
Drew upon the musings
Of a dark thought
A dark passage
Could describe the pain
A battalion of words
Onward marching, marching
Carrying the flag, high
Only now, seems feeble
The fight
Sapped and sucked from her being
No meaning
Only a plight
Of a forgotten time
Happy woman
Without a reason
To write.