Daniel Swearingen

“The essential truth is that sometimes you’re worried that they’ll find out it’s a fluke, that you don’t really have it. You’ve lost the muse or – the worst dread – you never had it at all. I went through all that madness early on”. – Robin Williams

The air is empty this October, so still, not even the smell of pumpkin spice changes anything. No witches, no imagination, and sadly no muse. For it would appear she has ghosted me, left me with no familiar in which to confide, no words in which to write. No spirit in which to see from inside. Maybe it is for a season, maybe it last in a forever night. For now, it immortal, and what can I do but hide.

So, are you my faire, are you my fine? My silver dust, my mystery shine. My three-beat heart, a moving boat, words…

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By GrannyMoon Posted in Pagan

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