Like ostrich
With head in sand
I long to immerse
My head
In the pool of rest,
Momentary respite
From possessive grip
Of the Muse.
Like a herald
Imprisoned in mission
I long for momentary release.
Torrent of messages
Mass
In the mould
Threatening to burst.
Let me open the tap again
And water the flowers.
Let me feed me
With more meals
of fortitude,
Lest I slump
In the forest of fatigue.
My voice
Will sound louder,
My messages
Will reverbrate more
In the chambers
Of ears,
More testimonies
Of my calling.


By Chidi Anthony Opara

Source: http://mundanemuses..com/2010/04/grip-of-muse.html