To The Black Muse Poem by Leon Moon

O' watery Muse of transparency!
Entwined within exaltation's summit
Eclipsing, from throats, vales of poesy
For the will of a canopying Hermit,
Shooting arrows of time with hands of light
Among ripe moors of divine solitude,
Parting silver tongues upon mankind's sight
To the heavens interned through him subdued.
Dwelling in valleys of shimmering gold,
Glowing in landscapes of the infant's dream,
Blinks seduce animations of men 'bold'
To the dust composing strength to redeem
The serpents coiling our mind to a brood;
Reflecting from your scythed tusks of bleak visions,
Shards of futility's darkness renewed; -
To burn soft under the Sun's derisions.
Suffering moulds upon Apollo's grip
And stars of necessity dissolve night
To harmonies of a mute child's worship,
Casually rising those poets to a fight;
Unheard, your intrinsic flesh is veiled by
Proposition: 'Are you dead, or am I? '