My muse, D, what happened to you?
When your muse has become your loss of inspiration,
When the solid ground beneath your feet has shifted into one thousand separate stones,
How do you bring your aching heart into understanding?
When the mountains are no longer struggles to easily climb,
When the sun has become a blinding reminder of everything you have lost,
Where are you supposed to turn?
When your words have lost their beauty,
When your only known passion no longer satisfies,
Where do you find hope?