The muse’s gift.

The surge comes quickly,
Washing over and filling my soul,
Happiness vibrates from deep within,
Creative energy overflows,
Into an explosion of words,
Butterflies with knives,
Joyfull gladiators,
Duel in my breast,
Eyes dart and soak in color,
Details overlooked now crystal clear,
Thoughts blurr with speed,
Branching and merging,
Faster than I can follow,
Fingers fly apon they keys,
A constant staccato,
Riseing into crescendo,
Of Frantic creation,
Bam. Done.
I will start again.

Best wishes-SirHanz

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