Beware The Muses' Kissing Poem by NurViktoria Ellen

BEWARE THE MUSES’ KISSING

When, after aeons of neglect, the muses get in touch, their kiss
To resurrect is a curse as much as bliss.

Swooping down to inflict on the genius derelict their passionate
And precious gift: unleashing powers which create
Or choose to desecrate the flowers of your soul
Unprovoked and suddenly.
When inspiration strikes, it never asks,
Can you handle this donation? Simply
Light both ends of your candle
Or receive the coup-de-grace!

Soon you realize the true
Agony is not the blow to the head you were hiding under the bed
Nor the jolt to the heart as it gets a kick-start
Out of the blue

But the long-avoided effort of trying to climb
The Everest of trivia and petty domesticity
Built up during what seems a lifetime
And obstructing the view on reality.

The hardest bit is fighting the losing battle to ignore
Everyday pathetic chores screaming and biting
Your hands like abandoned children.

It pains to face the awful truth
That while you believed you were playing it safe,
For a decade or two, all you achieved
Was dig your own grave
In pursuit of other people’s dreams for you.

Beware the muses’ kissing – they are apt to impose
An impossible mission. But should you choose
To accept their teasing offer, you might eventually discover
You had nothing left to lose.